


The Tempting of An Angel

by CaseNumber825



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels Have No Set Gender, Crowley Has Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Other, Sex In A Roman Bath House, Temptations, This Gained Plot Somehow, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, and he doesn't know what to do with them, gender fluidity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 03:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19165021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseNumber825/pseuds/CaseNumber825
Summary: A lonely Aziraphale contemplates his life since the Beginning in an Inn in Ancient Rome, finding himself more than a little lost and depressed after Gabriel's recent distant attitude towards him.When he stumbles across Crowley drinking alone in the same Inn, the two strike up an unlikely dalliance. But is the demon being completely truthful, or is Aziraphale setting himself up for a heartbreaking betrayal?





	1. The Tempting

Gabriel had left him.

Well, no, actually that wasn’t quite true. If he were talking in actualities, he had left Gabriel. However reluctantly that leaving had been, and however against his will it had been. The matter still stood, though, that he hadn’t seen hide nor immaculately groomed hair of the archangel in at least a couple of hundred years. He hadn’t even dropped by to see how Aziraphale was doing after the Crucifixion.

Granted, that was probably quite a busy time for them up in Heaven. Lots of paperwork to go through and all of that. That didn’t make it sting any less. And the memory of Gabriel’s last visit was starting to lose its impact. Aziraphale sighed as he looked into his wine. That wasn’t to say he was planning to stop thinking about it any time soon, as he allowed a small, sad smile to grace his face. Technically it hadn’t been Gabriel’s last visit - that had been purely professional and based completely around checking a slight inconsistency in Aziraphale’s last report. The time before that, however, just over 200 years ago. Aziraphale shivered just a touch at the thought.

The archangel had been in a particularly hands-y mood that time, Heaven had some exciting new plans afoot and Gabriel was going to be an important character, he had landed the job of telling Mary that she was to give birth to the son of the Almighty. It had made him feel really quite appreciated. And in turned, he’d decided to ‘appreciate’ Aziraphale. Not that Aziraphale had complained.

Sprawled out on his back, his robes parted as though Gabriel were Moses and the robes were the Red Sea. He’d taken his time then, mapping every inch of Aziraphale’s body, placing feather-light kisses across his skin to match the brush of feathers from Gabriel’s wings as they shielded the couple from view. Gabriel’s wings were a sight to behold. His corporeal form had kept four of them and most human-constructed building would be unable to contain them should he choose to unfurl them fully. It was lucky, or perhaps planned, that Gabriel should have chosen to participate in such carnal activities in a private outdoor location.

Aziraphale had felt worshipped by Gabriel that day. That way he’d opened Aziraphale up, his fingers thrusting inside the warm channel of his sex, his tongue teasing and pressing against his clit just right, so that tiny shockwaves of pleasure shot through his form. The pleasant stretch and burn of the archangel’s girth as it finally filled his slick, aching entrance over and over again.

But, Aziraphale shook his head, that was over 200 years ago. Ever since then, Gabriel had been slowly but surely distancing himself. And it hurt in a way that Aziraphale hadn’t really been anticipating, having always thought of himself as an angel that quite enjoyed his own company.

“Give me a jug of whatever you think is drinkable”

Aziraphale looked up and over towards the bar. He recognised that voice. It seemed to have been following him ever since the Beginning, through almost every major event Aziraphale had bared witness to. If he didn’t know better, he might have thought that he was being followed. And sure enough, there was that shock of unnaturally red hair combined with that generally nonchalant attitude that made Aziraphale certain,

“Crawly?” No, wait, “Crowley?” He corrected, pleased with himself for remembering, “Well, fancy running into you here.” He probably shouldn’t have been so please to see the demon, which reminded him, “Still a demon then?”

Admittedly he regretted asking it as soon as the words had tumbled out of his mouth. It was just, Crowley was the one who had been there at the Crucifixion. He’d said surprisingly kind words, for a demon. He’d made Aziraphale feel just a bit better, for a moment, about the Almighty’s plan. Those weren’t the actions of any demon he’d come across before, and, indeed, Crowley didn’t feel like any demon he’d come across before. There was something different about him, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Still a demon? What kind of stupid question is that, ‘Still a demon’? What else am I going to be, an aardvark?”

Okay, maybe he deserved that. He gave a quick ‘Salutaria’ and changed the subject to something easier. Only, somehow he’d managed to change the subject so thoroughly that he’d managed to ask the demon out for, what was essentially, a lunch date.

“Oh, well, let me tempt you to – Oh no, that’s your job isn’t it”

And Crowley had turned to look at him then, seemingly assessing him thoroughly with his eyes (concealed by glasses, though they were) and then a smirk formed on his face as he leant back and apparently ended up contented with what he’d determined about Aziraphale.

“An angel, asking a demon out for lunch? Not sure your side would like that very much, would they?”

Aziraphale gulped. The thought had crossed his mind. But, they didn’t seem to care about what he was doing down here so long as he filed his reports on time. Even Gabriel had decided that what Aziraphale was doing on Earth wasn’t worth his precious time. And so, with that in mind, he straightened his back and looked Crowley straight in the eyes,

“It’s only lunch isn’t it? I’m sure they won’t even know”

And that was how he found himself sitting across a table with a demon, as Aziraphale demonstrated the most efficient way of eating an oyster. He had had to muffle his laughter behind his palm when Crowley first struggled to open the shell, the demon’s frustration with the difficult tasked had ended up with half an oyster flying across the restaurant and poor Petronius wondering what had just hit him upside the back of the head.  This, in turn, had led to Aziraphale sitting beside Crowley to show him exactly how the human’s coped with such a fiddly task.

“Don’t see why I can’t just miracle it open?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, “This is a public setting, someone would notice if oyster shells began popping off by themselves”

“You say that –”

“Besides,” Aziraphale interrupted, “it’s half of the fun of eating them. Like a bit of a reward afterwards, you see?”

He prised open one of the shells and offered it to the demon, who looked at the contents with just a hint of distaste, “Doesn’t look very appetising, angel, does it?” he muttered.

Aziraphale’s breath hitched just so at Crowley’s phrasing. What had that reaction been? He was an angel, after all, it should only make sense that the demon would refer to him as such. So why could he feel a rush of colour come flooding high on his cheekbones? He turned away quickly, attempting to hide his face away from Crowley’s eyes.

“That’s as may be,” He said, keeping the topic firmly on the food in front of them, “you shouldn’t really stare at them for too long. You just, here,” he placed a lemon quarter on the demon’s plate next to the opened oyster, his eyes trained firmly on his task, “squeeze some lemon juice into it, then just tip and swallow”

“Tip and swallow?” Crowley queried, still sounding unsure, “Sounds more like taking some medicine, not enjoying some good food”

“Just try it, I think you’ll be surprised”

Crowley shrugged, and Aziraphale glanced at the demon’s face as he tipped his head back to down the contents of the oyster shell. His couldn’t help but allow his gaze to linger down the other’s neck, watching as his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. Aziraphale took his bottom lip between his teeth as he waited for Crowley’s reaction. At least, he thought that was what he’d been doing, until he looked back up to Crowley’s face and caught the demon smirking at him once more.

“I’m – I’m sorry, did you say something?”

The demon’s smirk grew even more, if that were possible, and Aziraphale could feel those eyes scan his body,

“I said,” he drawled, amusement evident in his voice, “That that was surprisingly delicious. Maybe we should have some more?”

Aziraphale swallowed, then nodded eagerly, making for the knife to prise open another shell, only to be stopped by Crowley’s hands stilling his slightly shaky fingers. When had that started? He froze at the skin on skin contact. He hadn’t been touched by another being in really quite a long time, he realised distantly. The demon’s hand were really quite warm, he noted, with some degree of surprise.

“How about I do these ones?” Crowley suggested.

And really, when had he gotten so close? Aziraphale thought as he nodded, more slowly this time. He had been certain there was at least a couple of feet between them just a second ago. He watched as Crowley prised open the shells with ease this time, before squeezing an ample amount of lemon juice into a shell and picking it up. Aziraphale went to follow suit with the second shell, but was stopped once more.

“Ah, ah, ah, angel,” The demon reprimanded, to which Aziraphale looked at him with evident confusion, “Allow me”

The angel glanced at the shell in front of his lips, then back at Crowley, then back at the shell and he wondered, briefly, whether or not inviting the demon to this place with him had been a mistake. With a mental shrug, he allowed the demon to press the shell against his lips, relaxing his throat as Crowley tipped the contents into his open mouth, trying to ignore the way the demon’s tongue poked out as he watched Aziraphale take what was offered.

“Good angel” He praised, and what did it mean that Aziraphale could feel himself flushing at those words, a sense of pride welling up inside him that he’d done as the demon asked correctly. At some point, Crowley had downed his own oyster and had gotten to his feet. It was only that a hand was suddenly presented in front of his face, otherwise he’s not sure he would have noticed, his mind still preoccupied with what had just happened,

“Come with me” The demon’s command was gentle, and soft, but still definitely a command, and Aziraphale felt himself obeying without truly thinking about it,

“Where are we going?” Was the only thing he thought to ask after slipping his own hand into Crowley’s, feeling somewhat dazed at the sudden change of events.

Crowley offered him another one of those smirks before stopping and pulling him close enough to whisper in his ear, “I think you and I could do with having a little private talk, don’t you?”

“I – well, I mean, - I guess, if you think so” Aziraphale managed to stammer out, as Crowley continued to lead them both through the bustling marketplace and out to where the public bathing houses were situated.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale interjected, “I don’t think those are very private?”

“They will be”

And sure enough, they were. Or, at least, after a moment they were, as everyone that was currently using the baths simultaneously decided that they were late to whatever appointment they should have been attending. Aziraphale had never seen so many naked human’s exiting a bathing house before. Crowley could have, at least, allowed them chance to retrieve their clothes. This wasn’t Greece, after all, human attitudes towards public nudity differed between continents.

Crowley simply shrugged it off. Causing a load of public outrage in the middle of the warm day in Massalia was just another thing that Crowley to add to his list of ‘Deeds’. “Perhaps more people should be like the Greeks then” Was all he said about that in return.

Then he began to remove his clothes and it was all Aziraphale could do to not gape like a fish. As it was he simply exclaimed, “What are you doing?” Before turning away to hide the ever-insistent redness of his face. This was becoming all too commonplace around the demon for his liking.

“What do you mean ‘what am I doing’?” Crowley retorted with a scoff, “This is a bath. I am using it as a bath. Are you trying to tell me you bathe with your clothes on?”

Aziraphale spluttered, “Wha- no! Of course not. But what are we even doing in the bathing house anyway?”

“Oh, right, yes,” it was as though the reasoning hadn’t even crossed Crowley mind, “Just thought you looked like you needed a bit of relaxation before our talk. So, go on angel, get that robe off and get in”

Aziraphale managed, with some degree of difficulty, to resist the temptation to obey that silky smooth voice, “I really mustn’t” He spoke with an uncertainty that Crowley was quick to notice it,

“Well, can you at least sit down,” Crowley tried again, “You’re like a tense ball of… of...,” he faltered, “Tenseness, whatever, come on angel”

The angel in question blinked a couple of times. Then, squaring his shoulders, he decided to take Crowley up on his offer and perched himself on the edge of the bath wall. As his bared feet submerged into the warm water, he had to admit that even just that had quite the relaxing effect on the rest of his body, his shoulders sagging down and his eyes falling shut briefly in relief,

“Isn’t that better?” Aziraphale nodded in reply and looked at the now smug-looking demon. Crowley had glided his way through the water and was resting his arms up on the very wall that Aziraphale had settled on, his elbows mere inches away from Aziraphale’s thigh, “Now, why don’t you tell me why, exactly, you’re in Rome asking demons on lunch dates?”

“I’m not asking demons, just you”

“Well, not that I’m not flattered, but… still a demon, you know”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, “Yes, I understand”

“Let’s stop deflecting, shall we?” Crowley interjected, admittedly before Aziraphale had really thought about it, but the option was in the back of his mind, “There’s something going on with you”

Aziraphale swallowed nervously. It wasn’t that the demon was wrong, per se. Far from it, actually, there was a lot going on in his head. However, how much of it could he disclose to a demon? The idea was ridiculous to say the least. And yet, as he looked at the demon in question, he couldn’t help but think that maybe this was a being that might understand his troubles.

“You’ll think it’s ridiculous”

“Try me”

Well this was it. He could either tell the demon everything that was weighing on his mind, about Gabriel, about being left on Earth, about the Almighty’s plans, about feeling uncertain of his place in the grand scheme of things. Or, he could get up, right now, tell Crowley it’s been nice but he really must be going, and leave Rome to head for Egypt and hope that Crowley didn’t follow again.

The second option would have probably been the more appropriate course of action for an angel to take. However, Aziraphale didn’t often take the more appropriate courses, as a habit. And so he talked. And he talked. And then, when he thought he couldn’t say anymore, Crowley would give him another patient look and he would find more to talk about. Crowley was a silent listener, but Aziraphale had no fears that he wasn’t listening. He was extraordinarily easy to talk to, and he wondered, vaguely, what he might have been like as an angel.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, around 20 minutes into his speech, “I’m ever so sorry, you probably have places to be. Wasn’t there a temptation or something you were doing?”

“It can wait” Crowley reassured him, “So, you’re telling me that Gabriel had an angel like you all to himself, and he’s left you down here for anyone to have?”

Aziraphale felt his eyes widen and he ducked his head, “Well, that’s not exactly… we were close, yes, but…”

“He’s a complete... what’s the word here,” He paused, thinking, “Idiota, that’s it!”

The angel gasped, and then looked up just in case Gabriel happened to have heard the slight against his name, “Crowley!”

Crowley tilted his head, just a touch, and inched closer still, before draping a hand over Aziraphale’s thigh, who tensed up in reaction and whispered, “What are you-”

“All of this,” He mused in his interruption, running his hand across Aziraphale’s cloth covered skin, and though there was no need for it, the angel was certain he could feel his heart thumping inside his chest and he knew his corporeal form had reacted without his say-so. He could feel the familiar tingling, like a pleasurable form of pins and needles, “All of you, and he’s not down here worshiping you every single day. _Idiota_.”

In a flash and with a yelp, Aziraphale found himself with a demon wedged between his thighs, those dextrous fingers still running patterns up and down his upper thighs. Aziraphale’s fingers gripped tight against the edge of the wall, his knuckles white and his breath coming in short, sharp puffs, “Crowley, I don’t know what you think you’re doing”

“If I were him,” Crowley continued, as though he hadn’t heard the angel, “I wouldn’t be able to let you go so easy”

“You wouldn’t?” Aziraphale couldn’t help but ask, hated how small and needy his voice sounded already, “I – I mean…”

But, Crowley could tell he’d already succeeded. A pleased grin spread across his face and the pupils within those golden, serpentine eyes had widened considerably. _Where had those eyeglasses gone?_ And Aziraphale knew that he was already too far gone to argue. He had to admit to himself that he’d been curious. That, maybe, he’d been curious since that day on the wall, when the demon had morphed into a handsome male-shaped being right next to him and had told him that he was _‘an angel, I don’t think you can do the wrong thing’_

While he’d always belonged to Gabriel, in a sense, it had been easy to ignore that curiosity. But, Gabriel didn’t seem to care anymore. What harm could there be in this? And so he pushed himself, just slightly, closer to the edge of the wall, closer to Crowley’s exploratory hand. And the demon looked up at him and said, “That’s it angel”

Aziraphale smiled down at him, and Crowley’s hand disappeared underneath the material. _Finally._ He could feel the demon’s hands against the skin of his thighs, his thumbs massaging little circles in the juncture between Aziraphale’s hip and leg, to which the angel whimpered softly in the back of his throat,

“Tell me, angel, is this what you want?” Aziraphale nodded, “Use your words, and tell me if this is what you _need_?”

“Yes,” He choked out, as Crowley’s hands wandered closer to where he wanted them to be, “Yes, please, Crowley”

“Well, well, well,” the demon drawling, as his fingers lightly skimmed across the slick lips of Aziraphale’s sex, the angel’s breathing hitching almost violently as he tried to urge Crowley to press harder, “That’s not exactly what I was expecting”

Aziraphale blushed, a spark of hot shame twisting through his gut as he tried to explain, “Oh, I, er, my apologies. Gabriel preferred it; I can change, if you want?”

Crowley grit his teeth together and rubbed his thumb against Aziraphale’s clit, just tiptoeing the line of being too rough and Aziraphale groaned loudly, his body lurching forward and his hands scrambling for purchase on Crowley’s shoulders, “Don’t mention his name again, angel.” He commanded, his fingertip just dipping lightly into Aziraphale’s entrance as his thumb continued its ministrations on his clit, “Now, you tell me - Which arrangement would you rather have?”

Aziraphale panted, it had really been far too long, he hadn’t even touched himself since Gabriel’s last visit. And now Crowley was teasing him, dipping into him for only a nanosecond at a time before spreading his slick across his lips and his clit.

“This,” He managed to get out, “I like it this way… like how it feels”

Crowley removed his hand from Aziraphale completely, and the angel could have cried with the loss, no matter how teasing the touches had been. Until Crowley said, “Perfect. Now let’s get that robe off you, shall we?”

Aziraphale nodded eagerly this time, not even surprised when the demon snapped his fingers and the robe simply dematerialised off his body, leaving Crowley to run his tongue across his lips as he surveyed the sight in front of him. Aziraphale smiled, though his arms itched to cover himself against the open way that Crowley was taking him in. His body had never been as broad and muscled as Gabriel’s, nor was it as lithe and slender as Crowley’s. His was, instead, soft and curved - not quite fat and yet not quite thin. A complete mix of the two and he was always fine with that. Until someone new saw it. Then he was self-conscious, and he almost wished that they could have done this in a darkened room.

Crowley, however, as though he could hear Aziraphale’s internal monologue, ran his hands appreciatively across the expanse of skin that had been exposed to him, watching as the gooseflesh rose upon the pale canvas, “Beautiful” He whispered, and with the way he sounded, Aziraphale could believe that he meant it.

With another snap of the demon’s fingers, Aziraphale found himself sitting in front of a pile of plush cushions and with a confused look sent Crowley’s way, he received as a reply, “Lean back, Aziraphale, it’s time for you to be properly worshipped”

He did as he was told, the pillows propped high enough so that he could still see Crowley without straining his neck too much. Though, as the demon lowered down, pressing light kisses against the skin of his thigh, nipping at him every now and again and moving further up to his hip, Aziraphale couldn’t hold his head up for much longer, allowed himself to fall back fully against the pillows. He took the sensations in, whimpering soft pleas as Crowley came so close to his centre, before he moved over to the other thigh and doted upon the skin there.

A few minutes had passed and Aziraphale was getting fidgety, his calves curling around Crowley’s torso as he tried to urge the other being to his core, “Crowley, please, don’t tease” He moaned.

Crowley looked up at the angel from his place between his legs, “I would never” he whispered, before closing his lips around Aziraphale’s clit and sucked

“Oh, my!” Aziraphale’s eyes flew open, and his hands came up to grasp the pillows next to his head. It was at this point that Aziraphale realised that Crowley had more similarities to a snake than just those wonderful eyes. As a preternaturally long and dextrous tongue flicked and curled across the little nub, the jolts of pleasure had the angel’s body writhing in next to no time and he begged, “More, please, I need more”

Crowley moaned against Aziraphale’s mound, lapping at his clit a couple more times before he sank just a little bit lower. Aziraphale knew what was coming, he knew exactly what else that tongue would be marvelous for. And yet, when it actually happened and Crowley plunged it into Aziraphale’s warm, wet, entrance, the angel couldn’t even try to hold back the loud moan that escaped him. His body naturally tried to press even closer, to force the appendage even further into himself, to try to get it to reach as deep as it could go,

“Yes, Crowley, that feels so good” Aziraphale groaned as he squirmed, inching ever closer to the edge of the wall.

It was at times like these that Crowley was grateful that he didn’t need to breathe. He could have happily stayed like this for the rest of eternity. The angel tasted sweeter than any of Eden’s apples, and sounded better in his pleasure than any choir of angels could have hoped for. He thrust his tongue rhythmically into the warm sweetness, enjoying the way he could feel Aziraphale’s walls clench around him. He almost couldn’t wait to feel that same sensation against his cock, which by now was almost painful in how hard it was, leaking into the surrounding water and feeling very neglected indeed.

He had to time it correctly though. He had to wait to hear Aziraphale’s moans and whimpers change pitch just so, and feel his body start to spasm even just the tiniest amount. And then it did, and he heard Aziraphale start say “Crowley, I’m going to-” and he pulled away instantly, to which Aziraphale whimpered almost pathetically,

“What…”

Crowley hushed him and pulled him back up into a sitting position, which he managed albeit very shakily, “Not yet, my angel,” He soothed, before he pulled the angel fully into the bath, the warm water allowing Aziraphale’s body to release all that orgasmic tension he’d been holding back,

“But I…” The angel made to protest, until Crowley pushed his lips against the others, pushing his tongue against Aziraphale’s lips insistently. Not that it took much coaxing to convince Aziraphale to open up for him, allowing the angel to taste himself on the demon’s tongue. A taste that had said angel moaning into said demon’s mouth, his arms winding around Crowley’s neck holding him tightly against his own body.

Crowley responded in kind and pressed his cock against the soft flesh of Aziraphale’s thigh and Aziraphale gasped into Crowley’s mouth and pulled back just slightly to mutter against his lips, “Would you rather my mouth, or my cunt?”

And it was said so innocently, as though the angel was asking which desert Crowley would rather sample on a particularly divine menu, and Crowley had to take a couple of calming breaths before he could respond, “Oh, angel, as tempting as that delicious mouth is, I don’t want to come unless I’m inside that perfect body of yours”

Aziraphale captured his lips again, his hands sinking below the water to take hold of Crowley’s cock, using the water mixed with Crowley’s own pre-come to pump the organ a couple of times, getting a feel for its length and girth, before positioning him at his entrance. At which point he stopped and whispered into Crowley’s ear, “Please”

And with an almost primal groan, Crowley sunk himself into that deliciously tight, wet, heat. It was like Aziraphale had been made especially for him, with the way his silken walls contoured so perfectly around Crowley’s cock. The drag and pull on him was exquisite, and Crowley had to stop and pause for a moment to collect himself. He didn’t want to come so soon. He didn’t want this feeling to end. As he waited, he took Aziraphale’s lips again, biting against the lower one and swiping his tongue across the reddened area to sooth it back again.

Aziraphale was panting against him, trying to move against Crowley, urging the demon to move inside him, “Crowley, don’t tease me, please. I need you.”

“Fuck, angel, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.” And yet, Crowley had a nagging suspicion that the angel knew exactly what he was doing to him. Aziraphale seemed all angelic innocence and naiveté, but he’d taken Crowley’s cock with all the form of a being that knew exactly what they wanted. And if that was the case, “Let’s see what you’re made of, angel”

And with that, he set a brutal pace. Thrusting into Aziraphale as hard and fast as he could. Aziraphale legs wrapped tightly around his hips as Crowley held him up against the bath wall, his perfectly manicured nails creating sharp little scratches along Crowley’s back and his head buried deep into the juncture between Crowley’s neck and shoulders, muffling his moans into the skin there.

Crowley wasn’t have that, “I want to hear you angel. I want everyone to hear you. I want them all to do how much you love this.” He coaxed Aziraphale’s head back against the wall, his cries of pleasure echoing around the large room, bouncing off the walls and leaving no doubt as to what was going on in the bath house. “That’s right, that’s what I’m talking about. Let them all hear, let them know how much this angel loves being claimed by a demon”

“Yes, Crowley. Stars above, please don’t stop” Aziraphale moaned his pleasure loudly, “You feel so good, so perfect.” Another groan and he choked out, “And so fucking big!” with a gasp and a groan to follow, throwing his head back so violently that Crowley almost feared he was going to do himself some damage against the stone floor.

Crowley could feel himself getting close, his balls tightening against his body. He could sense that Aziraphale was also near the brink, the angels moans having increased tenfold and risen in pitch, speaking of the pleasure that Crowley was giving him in incoherent sentences. Crowley's hands gripped the thick, creamy flesh of Aziraphale's arse in order to pull him closer, "Come on, angel, you're so tight, you take me so well. They don't deserve you up there, do they?"

Aziraphale was so far gone at this point that he would have probably agreed to anything. As it was, however, he was also too far gone to properly form answers and so, if Heaven had been listening or paying attention, the babbling moans and Crowley's name being repeated in a nearly sobbing whimper probably couldn't be seen as grounds for blasphemy. And, seeing as his next coherent sentence turned out to be, "Crowley," and then a gasp, and then again, "Crowley, I'm going to come, please... want you to come in me", Crowley's brain virtually short-circuited and he didn't give much thought to receiving an answer after that.

A couple of stuttered thrusts forward later, and Crowley groaned through his release, nearly drowning out Aziraphale's own cries of relief. Crowley came hard and deep inside the angels body, coating the warm channel that was still clenched around his softening cock. Aziraphale seemed reluctant to part, wrapping his arms around the demon's shoulder and holding him tightly against his chest,

"Not yet," he begged, softly, Crowley having to strain in order to hear him properly, "just a little longer."

Crowley allowed a small smile to grace his face, and used what little he had left of his demonic strength to lift the two of them up and onto the bath's edge, settling them both onto the mountain of pillows he'd materialised for Aziraphale earlier. He was just started to edge into discomfort as Aziraphale continued to clench around his sensitive cock, but the angel was still determined to keep him close. He allowed him that for a few more moments before he really had to insist he be let go, and with a groan, he pulled himself from that wonderfully tight warmth, a little trickle of his own seed following his path out.

Aziraphale whimpered at the loss, his body shuddering minutely as the demon brushed against his sensitive clit with gentle fingers.

"You were glorious, angel," Crowley murmured against his ear, "they don't know what they're missing out on, leaving you down here"

Aziraphale gave a noncommittal hum in return, before sighing and burying himself into Crowley's chest, his arms wound tight around his stomach, "Can we stay like this, just for a while?" He asked, quiet and timid, in a voice that suggested that he was prepared for the inevitability of Crowley saying.

As it was, Crowley smiled and pressed a light kiss atop the bright blonde curls on Aziraphale's head, "Of course, Aziraphale, but just for a while"

He could feel Aziraphale's smile against his skin as the angel sighed happily and snuggled himself closer to the demon.

***

It was another few hours before the angel and the demon parted ways, Crowley having promised that he would find Aziraphale out again as soon as he was able to. The angel seemed contented by that and walked away with more a glow about him than Crowley could remember seeing earlier that day.

The sun had settled down for the night by the time Crowley ventured out to the nearby cemetery. He could never understand why both Hastur and Ligur found it necessary to pick the most cliched locations to recount their latest deeds. Why couldn't they choose a nice inn, or a secluded forest, or a lake? Nope. Surrounded by dead bodies was apparently how they liked to do it.

As it was, he was running late again. But, at least he had a good reason this time, he thought to himself as he strode up to the Dukes of Hell with a smug grin firmly in place on his face, enjoying the matching looks of confusion the faces of the his two colleagues.

"What's got you all smug like that then?" Ligur was the first to query.

To which Hastur was quick to reply with, "Yeah, you'd think you'd had another first sin breakthrough or something"

As though the idea was utterly preposterous. They could laugh and elbow each other, as thought they'd told the funniest of jokes, but that didn't change the fact that Crowley could officially call himself the reason behind Man's First Sin and they didn't have anything in their records to compare.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up guys. You'll like what I've got for you tonight." He assured them, gesturing for them to start recounting their deeds.

After a couple of raised eyebrows, and a slightly suspicious look thrown in his direction, the Dukes began their individual reports. It was quite standard fare for them. Ligur had managed to plant seeds of lust into a young girl’s head. Soon enough she wouldn't be able to resist the urge to lure older, married men into her bed. No other person would do. In time, she would ruin both her own reputation, and those of the men that she seduced. Hastur had tempted a jurist to allow a slew of guilty murderers on to the streets once more. The deaths against his soul would rise up and when his time came, he would be falling right down to the depths of Hell.

Crowley nodded in appreciation, "Nice work, guys, really good. But you haven't got anything on me"

"Well, go on then, we haven't got all night." 

That was an outright lie. They all had as long as they wanted. Just none of them could stand to be in each other's company fir longer than was necessary. Well, okay, Hastur and Ligur couldn't stand to be in Crowley's company for longer than necessary, and vice beds.

"I'm well on my way to tempting an angel" Crowley said.

He received a scoff in response. To be expected. Demon's didn't really tend to trust easily.

"Yes, of course you did, Crawly. Next you'll be telling us you've had the archangel Gabriel in your bed"

Crowley smirked, "You're not as far off as you think, you know" he grinned at the duplicate expressions of disbelief on their faces.

"What are you talking about here, Crawly" Hastur questioned, though this time he sounded less like he thought Crowley was in the middle of telling a particularly funny joke, and more like he needed to know the details and he needed to know them right now.

And so, Crowley was quite happy to give them those details. Well, maybe not in quite as much detail as he could have done. He wanted to keep some of those memories for himself, after all. But he told them all about his meeting with the angel, how he'd tempted him to lunch, then into performing carnal activities in a public bath house.

"So you're telling us, that you tempted Gabriel's jilted lover into sleeping with you?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you, yes"

A glance between the Dukes, before Ligur said, "So, what exactly does this get Hell?" Thought a twin set of grins were present of their faces. He knew what Crowley was going to say, they just wanted to hear him say it.

Crowley smirked, "Just you wait. Let me work my magic on this angel, and Hell will have itself a brand new member of the Fallen" 

 


	2. The Almost-Confession

Aziraphale tipped his head back against the pillows in ecstasy, more or less demanding that Crowley mark the skin of his neck. The demon’s teeth were sharp against his sensitive pulse point, and yet the nips he gave were gentle, even as his cock thrust deep into Aziraphale’s cunt.

“You’re” _pant_ “Goatee” _pant_ “Is” _pant_ “Ridiculous”

He managed to say between thrusts, the thought having first occurred to him while Crowley had been between his legs, working Aziraphale open and slick with his fingers and tongue. The sensation had been far too pleasant at the time to make a comment on; the brush of hair against his inner thigh combined with the shocking jolts of pleasure with every press against his clit was enough to distract him from the way it looked on the demon’s face.

However, they’d been going at it for nearly an hour now, with no signs of slowing, and Aziraphale could feel it tickling against his collarbone.

“ _Mmm_ ,” Crowley groaned, deep and low inside his throat, the vibrations flowing across Aziraphale’s skin and causing him to shiver, “You love it though”

Aziraphale was in two minds, if he were to be completely honest, and he would have said so too – If not for the fact that Crowley had re-angled himself and was now thrusting mercilessly against that most pleasurable spot inside Aziraphale’s body. He was getting close, the angel could tell, his movements were getting jerkier and less precise. Though if he kept up the pace he was doing, Aziraphale knew he wasn’t going to last much longer either.

And indeed, that seemed to be Crowley’s plan. The walls of Aziraphale’s cunt clenched on instinct, trying in vain to draw out Crowley’s pleasure before his own. Just when he thought he’d succeeded, Crowley stopped all movement completely, holding himself hard and aching inside Aziraphale’s body as he began to work at the angel’s clit. He leant down to groan into his ear, “Come for me, angel, that’s it. You can do it.”

The pressure against his now over-sensitive nub and Crowley’s deep tone coaxing him towards his peak had him crying out loudly, arching his back and drawing his orgasm out within moments, his release spreading all over Crowley’s hand and he sank down against the mattress boneless and blissful. Crowley grinned and restarted his brutally paced thrusts, though with the tightening of Aziraphale’s walls around him during his orgasm, and his already long-overdue release, he only managed another few more thrusts because he emptied himself inside the angel.

He’d come to realise now, after many centuries of doing this, that Aziraphale was very eager to keep Crowley inside of himself for as long as possible. Crowley, as a result, had built up a tolerance to the sensitivity that overcame him after his cock had begun to soften. He was now at the point where Aziraphale could happily snuggle into him and fall into a peaceful, light slumber before he had to pull himself out. Though, the angel still whimpered on instinct at the feeling.

Crowley snapped his fingers and the mess surrounding them vanished within an instant. Then, with a sigh, he settled propped up against the headboard, a pillow cushioning his back and his angel warm against his chest. This had become their routine, and Crowley wasn’t sure at what point he’d stopped thinking of it as an inconvenient necessity and had begun to appreciate it as an enjoyable comfort after the highs of orgasm. 

He thread his fingers through the sweat-damp blonde curls, pushing them back so that he could see the other’s face more clearly, the way his dark eyelashes fanned out against the high blush on his cheek. The way his still kiss-swollen, sweet, pink lips had parted just so as an almost invitation for Crowley to claim them once more, an urge he could just about ignore, though that didn’t stop his wandering thumb from running along the soft pout.

He lost track of time doing this, admiring his angel, taking his time to appreciate his corporeal form properly without the distraction of intercourse while simultaneous ignoring the nagging thought in the back of his head that told him that this wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing. This admiration was doing nothing to tempt the angel in his arms into Falling. Hastur and Ligur would want an update to take back to Beelzebub shortly and Crowley wasn’t sure he could think of anything new to give them.

Well, Aziraphale had agreed to go to Edinburgh for him to perform a small temptation. Never mind the fact that he was also going to be performing a blessing while he was there, it would have to be good enough. He wouldn’t tell the Dukes of Hell that with one look the angel had convinced him to make a, frankly dreary and dull, play into a roaring success that would linger for centuries to come. He’ll just tell them it would be an ongoing project, he’s certain he could find some way of making Shakespeare torturous for people.

They would query though, why his tempting of this particular angel was taking so long. Not that many demons tended to try it that often, and all who tried gave up within the century. Most angels were notoriously difficult to tempt. So subservient to the Almighty that no amount of tempting could break through. And Crowley had heard talk of those that weren’t, those that had begun to question and speak out. As a way to avoid another rebellion, Heaven had developed ways of re-educating those angels that made even Crowley shudder to think about.

The thought had him holding Aziraphale tighter to his body than he realised and the change in pressure cause the angel to stir,

“Crowley?” He queried, blearily.

Angels, generally, didn’t tend to sleep. Their corporeal forms didn’t require the basic needs that actual human bodies did. Demons didn’t need it either, though Crowley was quite the fan of being able to switch off and ignore everything for a short while. He had the inclination that Aziraphale had that in common with him, however much the angel might try to deny it.

“Is something wrong, my dear?” Aziraphale continued when no response was forthcoming, snapping Crowley out of his reverie.

He threw on a convincing smile and pressed a kiss onto Aziraphale’s forehead, “Nothing at all, angel, just enjoying the view is all.”

As predicted, Crowley watched a bright blush rise high upon full cheeks before the angel ducked his head from view, “You are too sweet, you know,” then he paused and chewed his lip a bit, contemplating something, “for a demon, course.”

Crowley grinned, his eyes flashing a brighter yellow, “Only for you”

Aziraphale watched him for a moment longer, seemingly contemplating something. Crowley felt as though he were being assessed and he resisted the urge to fidget uncomfortably. For the past couple of centuries, the demon hadn’t been able to shake off the worry of what would happen if Aziraphale found out. Would he call forth the forces of Heaven to smite him from existence? Or worse – would he leave Crowley completely, never to be seen or heard from again? Would Crowley’s deception send him running back up to Heaven and into Gabriel’s arms?

Finally, after what felt like hours, Aziraphale smiled and settled his head back on Crowley’s chest, his hand rising to trace tiny patterns in the demons skin as Crowley curled his own arm around his angel’s waist.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered suddenly, “Might I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you wish not to, but…”

Crowley interrupted, “Go ahead, angel”

He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but all of a sudden those nerves were back again and he wondered if he relaxed too quickly after Aziraphale had smiled at him. He was just about ready to curse that too-bright, too-beautiful smile when the angel spoke again,

“Why did you take me to the baths that day in Rome?”

It was said quietly, as though the question had been weighing on his mind for far too long and he simply had to ask it, lest he go insane from simple speculation.

Crowley softened considerably, and smiled that lecherous grin that graced his face far too often, “Take you _to_ the baths, angel? Or take you _in_ the baths?”

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean, don’t be such a – a – ”

“Demon?”

Aziraphale huffed, “If you’re going to be like that…”

He made to get up and out of the bed again, and Crowley was quick to snake his arms more firmly around the others waist and pull him back down flush against his body.

“Now, now, don’t get yourself all worked up,” He soothed as Aziraphale grumbled softly, “You really want to know why?” The angel nodded with just a hint of caution and Crowley briefly weighed up his options, “You’re different, you know, for an angel”

Aziraphale rose to face him properly, “No, I – I’m just like the other angels…”

The demon chuckled and shook his head as an interruption, “You’re really not, Aziraphale,” and before the angel to protest again, he continued, “But that’s not a bad thing. The other angels, they’re – well it’s difficult to explain – but they’re pompous. Arrogant. The only Good they truly do, is self-servient, to mark the deed off on a never-ending checklist.” Here he paused, waiting for another remark, but Aziraphale was curiously silent, so he continued once more, “You, on the other hand, you do Good because you want to. You do Good, but I see how you hesitate sometimes. When the order you’ve been given doesn’t correlate with your own vision of Good.”

“I don’t…”

“The sword, for one thing,” Crowley offered as a way of explanation, “And don’t think I didn’t see your face during the floods as well, and the crucifixion, and Sodom and Gomorrah. The plague, the destruction of Alexandria, the crusades...”

“Okay.” Aziraphale interjected, “I understand, please”

There were things that Aziraphale did not like to talk about, and the events that had caused him to question the Almighty’s Plans were some of them. Thinking about how his usually unflappable faith had been chipped at during those times of suffering caused him a great discomfort, even to this day. Crowley ran a hand up his upper arm in an attempt to inject some comfort before his continued,

“And it’s not just the care you show towards humanity. A care that I, frankly, don’t understand,” He added, “But, you talked to me.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I do that often?”

“No, not now,” he dismissed, “up on the wall, at Eden. Most other angels would have told me to run off back to Hell before they called for Divine Intervention. But not you, and why is that I wonder?”

At this, Crowley saw Aziraphale’s eyes widen, that familiar blush rising high up on his cheeks as he squirmed in Crowley’s arms. He was mumbling, and muttering, and seemingly running through a checklist of reasons why he needed to leave this room immediately and how they shouldn’t wait so long before they did this again. Crowley allowed him a few moments of this, an amused smirk playing about his lips as he watched the angel’s hands make elaborate shapes in the space between them, until he sat them both upright and grabbed hold of the animated appendages.

“Come now, angel, we’re way past being shy now aren’t we?” Aziraphale’s head was still looking pointedly at the mattress between them, and he mumbled incoherently into his own chest. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“I said it’s because you were handsome!” The angel exclaimed, apparently louder than he intended to, judging by the speed with which he clamped his hand to his mouth. His cheeks burned bright with embarrassment and he longed to get as far from the bed as he possibly could. How could he have let that slip? That he had felt desire for the demon from all the way back to the Beginning. That he had felt desire for him even whilst he also desired Gabriel. That he had spent his time from the Beginning to that fateful meeting in Rome, wondering if he would be punished for his desires. All of these thoughts reignited themselves in his mind, until he felt soft fingers under his chin,

“You thought me handsome did you?” The question was rhetorical, and he followed with, “For what it’s worth, when I saw you standing there on that wall, I thought you were absolutely divine.” He murmured, pulling the angel closer, his lips close to his ear as he continued to speak softly, “And then you asked me to try food with you, as though we were just two ordinary humans… _you have no idea how desirable that was_ ”

Crowley waited until he could hear that familiar stuttered breath fan out across recently parted lips, and at that point, he manoeuvred the angel to sit atop him. A small gasp left Aziraphale as his knees bracketed Crowley’s thighs, the evidence of the demons desire for him making itself known once more and causing a shudder to run through his body.

It wasn’t that often that Aziraphale found himself in this position, but Crowley had told him once before that he made quite the vision above him, setting his own pace and claiming his own pleasure from the demon. It was a position that he knew Gabriel was not fond of, the idea of Aziraphale above him in any capacity seemed to cause a mild sense of disgust within the archangel and so he wouldn’t allow it to happen during their lovemaking.

However, with Crowley’s interest now at full attention and resting within the seam of Aziraphale’s arse and the demon thrusting his hips up shallowly in order to chase that friction, he could feel his own excitement rising and his body responding rapidly to the sensations as he felt himself grow wet and aching and almost dripping with need.

“Crowley,” He urged, his own hips circling, spreading that wetness along Crowley’s skin, “Please, I need…”

“Take what you want, angel” Crowley groaned, though his tone held the promise of him taking Aziraphale regardless of what the angel’s next actions were.

Luckily Aziraphale was still open from the their previous session, he thought, perhaps, that he might even have some of Crowley’s come still within his body and he wondered whether Crowley would know it as he reached behind himself and positioned the demons cock at his entrance. Once he was breached, however, all thought left him as his entire focus shifting to the familiar stretch of Crowley entering him. It felt like a comfort. A familiarity that almost felt like home and Aziraphale had to stop for a moment once he was sat flush atop Crowley’s hips and breathe deeply.

Crowley held himself steady, unsure of what Aziraphale was thinking or doing. Usually he would only have to hold still for a few seconds at most; the angels desire to feel that movement within him overriding most other thoughts, however, this time he seemed to be making no effort to begin moving. Crowley was almost ready to begin thrusting himself, when he noticed glittering tears falling silently down the angels face.

With a panicked calmness, he reach up to wipe the moisture from his cheeks, “Angel?” His speech was somewhat strained with the effort of staying steady, but he wasn’t about to move a muscle while his angel was scaring him like this, “Talk to me, what’s going on? Do you want to stop?”

Aziraphale shook his head vigorously, and then took a couple more steadying breaths, “I never want to lose this, I don’t want them to take this from us.” He whimpered, voice catching on the syllables as he rolled his hips experimentally, as if to remind himself of Crowley’s presence within his body, “I think… I think I lo-”

Crowley captured his angel’s lips before he could finish the sentence, a sudden fear gripping him as he thought of what the consequences could be should he be allowed to vocalise those thoughts. As he claimed those decadent red lips, he was having internally battling with himself. What was he doing? Wasn’t this exactly what he’d been working at? A declaration of love might be just the thing to get the angel to Fall. But… did he even want that anymore? He wasn’t sure. 

When he released the angel’s mouth, Aziraphale looked somewhat distressed by the interruption. He pulled the other close to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and thrusting very gently into him, “I know you do, angel, I know” He whispered before setting a pace in an attempt to distract the beautiful being in his arms.

It worked. Once Crowley had angled himself properly, making sure that each thrust hit the perfect spot inside his angel, it didn’t take much more to have Aziraphale moaning wantonly in pleasure, trying to bounce in time with Crowley’s movements. This was safer ground; this was what Crowley knew how to handle. Once he was certain that Aziraphale was ready to be in control, he leant back into the pillows, and his hands found purchase on those wonderfully full hips as the angel took his own pleasure from Crowley’s body.

Aziraphale was truly beautiful like this, his head tipped back in rapture and his hips moving almost wildly atop Crowley’s own, circling, bouncing, and grinding as though he couldn’t choose just one method of wringing pleasure from him, so he used all the methods he could.

“Crowley,” He moaned, on one particularly well angled gyration that had Crowley jerking into him, “You’re so wonderful, so perfect… so good for me…” He trailed off into a loud groan, and without warning, his wings unfurled themselves from his body, spreading bright and white behind him, almost filling the small bedroom that they’d occupied for the day.

Crowley wasn’t prepared for the sight of Aziraphale, wings out and emanating a brightness, almost blinding in its intensity, which surrounded both of their bodies. So far gone into his pleasure, was Aziraphale, that he didn’t even seem to notice as he fell forwards, his wings blanketing them both. He was close to his peak. They both were, their movements growing jerkier with each thrust. Aziraphale’s whole weight now rested on top of Crowley, their chests pressed close together and Crowley’s hands running up and down Aziraphale’s back.

It was as he was feeling up the smooth expanse of the skin of his angel’s back, that his fingers happened to brush against the juncture between wing and back. All at once, Aziraphale’s entire body tensed up before he almost screamed with the pleasure of his orgasm, his release squirting from his body and onto Crowley’s stomach. The surprise of it, and the vice-like grip that surrounded his cock, pulled Crowley’s release from him with an almost forceful intensity. His hips stuttered as he groaned loudly, pumping his come as deep into his angel as he could. An almost animalistic urge came over him, a desire to see his seed take root inside Aziraphale’s body, to see the angel grow round and plump with his spawn.

No sooner had the thought entered his mind, did he dispel it just as fast. Not only was the idea impossible (there wasn’t a recorded celestial mating since Heaven’s records began, Crowley didn’t even think the idea crossed anyone’s mind Up There), but the fact that he had thought it in the first place was terrifying to him. He’d heard other demons speak of it. Tittering amongst themselves as they discussed the idea of forcing an angel to carry their offspring. It was a power fantasy. What better way to bring down the arrogance of an angel, than to have it birth the spawn of a demon.

That fear had Crowley pulling out of Aziraphale much faster than he usually would and the angel whimpered in his protest, lifting his head to furrow his brows at his demon.

He hushed the other and quickly brought his hand down to finger between Aziraphale’s folds, dipping one finger in gently and revelling in the pleased little sigh that came from his ministrations. Like this, he could feel his own come as it expelled itself from Aziraphale’s body, running in the tiniest of gentle little streams from his lips as Crowley gathered it and spread it around his mound.

He jolted a little when Aziraphale took that same hand delicately between his own, guiding it, still slick with his come, towards his face. Crowley couldn’t help the groan that escaped him when Aziraphale took his fingers into his mouth, his eyelids fluttering down, as he tasted the mixture of himself and Crowley on the demons fingertips, relishing it like a sweet nectar and sending pulsing vibrations through Crowley’s entire body as he moaned deep within his throat around the digits.

For a moment, Crowley forgot that he usually allowed his corporeal form to breathe, so enamoured by the sight of his angel tasting him like a particularly sweet dessert, “Angel,” He whispered, once he remembered, “You have no idea how glorious you truly are”

It was said in awe, like Crowley couldn’t even believe it himself, and Aziraphale let the fingers drop from his mouth and looked up at Crowley through his lashes, before practically launching himself at the demon, his mouth colliding with his own in a near-bruising manner as he allowed Crowley to taste himself on Aziraphale’s tongue.

The angel pulled away, and just as it looked like he was about to say something, he froze. He seemed to be staring, unseeing into the wall behind Crowley’s ear, brows furrowed and lips turned down just a touch. It lasted for a few seconds and when he came back to himself, he said one name that had Crowley’s blood running cold,

“Gabriel”

Then he virtually jumped off the bed, his wings vanishing within an instant as he searched wildly around the room.

“Angel, we miracle’d the clothes away, remember?”

Clothes of this era were so fiddly to remove, the frills and silks and buttons and layers meant that if they were to try to remove the human way, they would probably only just be getting into their first round at this very moment. A simple snap of the fingers from Crowley was a much more efficient way of doing it, especially when one had an angel wrapped around you, pawing at you in their desire to get into your pants. Crowley missed the days when it was acceptable to wear a simple robe out in public.

“Oh, yes, right of course,” Aziraphale replied, “Would you mind…”

Another simple snap of the fingers later and Aziraphale was once more covered, more-or-less head to toe, in the finest Elizabethan clothing this side of London. It was a shame, Crowley thought, to see that glorious expanse of creamy white skin be covered. However, he would rather that than have Gabriel enjoy it again.

Aziraphale moved, almost shyly up to the side of the bed, where Crowley was still sprawled out in all of his glory, hands behind head as he watched his angel. He leant over the demon, one hand placed gently on his cheek,

“Look, I know you don’t want me to say it out loud,”

Crowley brought his hand up to grasp the angel’s wrist, “Aziraphale, don’t…” He began,

“And I know you probably have your reasons, so I’ll respect that.” Aziraphale sighed, before placing a soft kiss on Crowley’s parted lips, “Just know, that I still feel it, and maybe one day you’ll allow me the pleasure of telling you.”

With one last peck and a smile thrown his way, Aziraphale walked out of the bedroom door and Crowley ran a hand over his face and groaned. He’d been doing that a lot today, though admittedly this particular groan was one born of frustration, rather than pleasure.

His stupid, naïve, beautiful angel. How could he be so foolish as to fall in love with a demon? To fall in love with Crowley? It wasn’t as though Crowley had been trying that hard with his temptations, if he were being entirely honest with himself. Oh sure, he worded all of his reports back to Hell with the voice of someone who was trying their utmost to Fell an angel. However, the truth of the matter was, he’d virtually given up over 500 years ago. Around about the time that realised…

“Having fun?”

With a resounding ‘Fuck!’ and the quickest miracle’ing in of something to cover himself with that he’d ever accomplished (apparently a nice fluffy white robe, probably from some noble woman’s wardrobe who will be most displeased when she discovers it missing)

“Ligur? What are you doing here?”

He jerked a thumb to the other corner of the room, “Hastur’s here too”

Sure enough, when Crowley turned to look, there was the other demon waving from the far corner of the room. Neither one of the Dukes had gotten the memo about trying to dress to blend in with the humans, clearly, as Crowley took in their tattered stained robes. Though, Crowley supposed, if you were walking around with some form of lizard atop your head, then wearing robes instead of era-appropriate clothes was probably least of your worries when it came to being inconspicuous.

“Okay then, what are you _both_ doing here?” Crowley tried again,

“Just came by to see how your little passion project is coming along,” Hastur grinned, “Been taking a while hasn’t it?”

Crowley shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance, “He’s just… you know… quite resistant to temptation. I’m getting there, though,” He assured them, before they could question him, “He’s going to Edinburgh for me. Thinks I’m putting myself at great risk as well, reckons Head Office might destroy me for it.”

Aziraphale hadn’t been wrong, necessarily. If Crowley had just asked Aziraphale to do the temptation and that was that, then Hell would be quite furious, and the punishment would have been quite severe. However, considering Hell believed that Crowley had an ulterior motive… well, there was a reason that both Hastur and Ligur had burst into laughter at the thought of it. Crowley simply grinned and nodded along with them, allowing the relief to flow through him once he was certain that they believed him.

“Angels are such idiots,” Ligur stated, “I don’t know how you’ve put up with one for so long”

It was said as though Crowley were undergoing some great plight. If Aziraphale were like any of the other angels, like Gabriel or Michael or Uriel, then he might well have agreed with Ligur’s sentiment. But the simple fact was, Aziraphale was like none of those. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Aziraphale that very thing just a little while ago.

“I know how he’s doing it,” Hastur interjected, his voice taking on a much darker tone as he stepped into Crowley’s personal space, blackened eyes staring straight into Crowley’s soul and for a moment he almost thought about making a run for it, until Hastur continued, “You’re enjoying fucking it, aren’t you?”

‘It’? Crowley thought. ‘It’? Aziraphale wasn’t an ‘it’. Aziraphale could be anything he wanted to be and Crowley was fairly certain that Aziraphale wouldn't have chosen ‘it’ as his classification.

He couldn’t let his discomfort at Hastur’s usage of the term show though, so instead he replied as casually as he could with, “Well, you know, can’t complain really.” And then snapped his fingers once more in order to materialise some slightly more appropriate Elizabethan clothing, with all the intentions of someone with one foot already out of the door,

“You’re just… leaving?”

Crowley stopped short, “That was the plan… was there something else?”

Both Hastur and Ligur looked a bit fidgety, looking at their hands, the floor, the ceiling, and almost anywhere, that wasn’t Crowley’s face. Finally, after a moment or two of awkward silence, Ligur was the one to speak up, “Well, none of us have ever fucked an angel before. Just wondered what it was like?”

Crowley swallowed. Hard. The term ‘fuck’ in relation to what he did with Aziraphale didn’t sit quite right in his mind. Which was ridiculous. That’s what they were doing, after all. It was just simple pleasure between two supernatural beings bound in a corporeal form. He pushed the rogue thoughts deep down into the ‘to-think-about-later’ pile and offered the two Dukes of Hell a lecherous grin,

“You’ll just have to go on wondering then, won’t you,” He said, smugness coating every word he spoke, and as he was leaving the bedroom he called back, “Until next time, fellas!”


	3. The Offering

The inn that Gabriel had summoned him to wasn’t too far from where he’d been sharing a bedroom with Crowley. The area it was situated in was nice; men and women walking together underneath an unseasonable warm autumn sun, the recent spell of rain had brought forth a fresher scent than what was usually found in London. It should have brought joy to Aziraphale, to see such pleasantries in the world while on his way to meet with a handsome Archangel. Yet, with each step, he felt his trepidation towards the meeting grow.

He shouldn’t _be_ nervous. Gabriel was still Gabriel. Even if it had been centuries since he last saw him. It wasn’t _his_ fault that the Archangel had left him here on Earth and allowed whatever relationship they had had dissipate into the ether. It would be unreasonable of Gabriel to assume that Aziraphale still held the same feelings for him as he had hundreds of years ago, wouldn’t it? If Gabriel _truly_ cared about retaining their more intimate relationship, he would have contacted him more frequently. Or, at least, that’s what he hoped the case would be.

The inn was crowded when he stepped into it, the smell of alcohol invaded his senses, erasing the fresh scent that he'd been enjoying previously, and the raucous laughter of drunken men had him rushing to a table in the far corner of the room in order to avoid them. Gabriel hadn’t arrived yet. That was good, it gave him time to settle his thoughts, and attempt to stop them wandering back to the bedroom he had just shared with Crowley.

 _His demon._ The thought came to him unbidden, and with it came a stirring deep within his belly. The excitement of their coupling hadn’t yet fully left him and he wondered if Gabriel would notice that anything had changed. That would be quite the cause for concern. To learn that his distance had sent Aziraphale into the arms of a demon? There was a small, secret part of Aziraphale that longed to know what the Archangels reaction would be. Would he upset? Angry? Concerned? Maybe jealous?

Aziraphale pushed those thoughts as far down as he could. However much he might want to know what Gabriel’s feelings would be, there was the very real threat of a celestial punishment should his feelings for Crowley ever make it back to Heaven.

He was so caught up in supressing his thoughts that he barely registered the noises that had bombarded him as he entered, all beginning to leave one after the one. It was only when there was complete silence that he looked up and, with a start, saw the Archangel himself smiling back at him as the last of the other patrons disappeared out of the door. He was clad in a well-fitted doublet buttoned with precious gemstones, in his customary grey and lavender tones. Upon his shoulders lay a silvered cape and Aziraphale wondered, for a moment, whether vanity was an optional sin.

“Gabriel! I – I didn’t, ahem,” he fumbled for his words, “didn’t hear you come in”

Gabriel, in return, smiled brightly. Gabriel always smiled brightly. It was one of his defining traits. The smiles were bright, but rarely were they given in sincerity. This one, however, seemed to be earnest in nature and Aziraphale’s nerves shot up.

“I can see that, my starlight.”

If Aziraphale had been drinking anything, he was certain he would have choked on it in that moment. As it was, he couldn’t stop his mouth from falling open in its surprise,

“Ex-excuse me?” _Surely he had heard wrong_

“I have heard that the humans like to use ‘nicknames’ for those they are fond of,” Gabriel declared, puffing his chest out just slightly at the knowledge he had managed to procure, “as I am fond of you, I thought it fitting”

Aziraphale nodded, slowly, “So… is that, all the time then?”

“No.” Came the reply, somewhat firmer than Aziraphale had anticipated, “Your angelic name was bestowed upon you by the Almighty. It is more fitting that I should use more often.”

Gabriel, as Aziraphale had noted long before existence had begun, was blessed with the ability to look undeniably serious for long periods. It was a gift that had seen him strike fear into the souls of evil beings, that had seen angels sink to the floor to beg for Forgiveness, that had seen terrible news delivered without preamble… and it was a look that, without fail, cause Aziraphale to squirm uncomfortable in the hard wooden chair he was currently occupying.

There was a sort of anticipation to this look of Gabriel’s. Sometimes, in Aziraphale’s experience at least, it meant that he was ready to deliver some news that was either highly important or high devastating, or both. On the other hand, the Archangel had also presented that look to him when he’d visited for more, _carnal_ , activities.

“I have come to bring word from the Metatron”

 _Ah,_ Aziraphale thought with just a hint of relief, _a professional visit then._ “Am I to assume this is something important? Most of the recent news I’ve received has come to me via letter”

Gabriel’s smiled twisted, just slightly, with something that might have been mistaken for guilt. “I felt it was necessary to deliver this news to you personally. After the last time, it was noticed that you were feeling sorrow, over the actions that the Almighty had taken against the people.”

Aziraphale frowned, a strange sensation of cold dread washing down his spine, “What do you mean ‘last time’?”

“Well, the plague of course,” Gabriel said, “I mean, it’s still been making some great strides in other areas around the world…”

He let Gabriel continue rambling. He’d heard the spiel before, about how the plague was a marvellous way of making sure that humanity didn’t become _too_ advanced too quickly. He’d also lived through it, the last time it had descended upon England. He’d seen the suffering, and the dying, and how humanity’s faith had been shaken. Humanity had taken to blaming the ‘other side’. Which is what the Almighty had wanted, of course, the more souls that blamed Hell for their suffering, the more souls that might turn to Heaven for recompense. They weren’t to know that they prayed to the side that had cause their plight.

“…but at least this time, it’s only being sent to this place”

Aziraphale had missed most of what Gabriel had been saying, “Pardon?”

“This place, the rest of this land should be free of it, provided humanity are sensible”

“You mean, just London then?”

Gabriel nodded carefully, uncertainly, “Well, yes… in this land at least. She’s a bit upset with… France, is it?... right now. They’re due a large outbreak first. And Italy, apparently.” 

Aziraphale looked away from the Archangel, his gaze firm on the table before him, as though it might hold the answers for what he might do next, “Th-thank you, Gabriel, for informing me,” He stammered, “I shall have to prepare myself for it then, I suppose”

He was picking, absentmindedly, at the skin next to his nail. Digging his nail into the delicate skin of his fingers as he mind cast itself not even 100 years into the past. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he couldn’t help but jump when Gabriel placed a hand over his own, stilling the movement of his fingernails. He looked, almost curiously, upon the hand that covered his. It had been such a long time since Gabriel had touched him, the Archangel’s skin pressed firm against his own. His hand was soft. Almost too soft. They were strong hands, of course; Aziraphale knew that, he could remember how firmly they had held him all those years back. But they were hands that hadn’t seen the harshness of the world that Aziraphale had occupied for over 5000 years.

 _They weren’t Crowley’s hands,_ his traitorous mind supplied.

“Aziraphale, maybe you should leave London, while it’s going on”

“And go where, exactly?” _And with whom,_ his mind supplied, _Crowley’s here._ He nearly flinched when Gabriel took hold of his hand, squeezing gently.

“Maybe you should return _home_ , just for a while. I can put in a good word for you.”

Aziraphale looked up at this. Looked deep into those earnest violet eyes that seemed to plead silently with him. This is what he’d wanted all those years ago, wasn’t it? To leave the Earth and go back to Heaven, with Gabriel, where he should have felt like he truly belonged. He tried to make his mind think of what it would mean for him to return for anything more than a quick status report. What it would mean to be back in Gabriel’s arm, if only for a short time, to feel _important_ to the Archangel again.

But every time he tried, his thoughts would go straight back to the serpentine demon he’d left in an abnormally plush bed several streets away. The demon who would not let him speak words of love, but would shower him with tenderness and affection. The demon who had agreed to make a play that he didn’t like into a success, just because it would make Aziraphale happy. The demon whose arms he felt unusually secure in, despite everything Heaven had ever taught him.

He sighed, “Gabriel, you are very kind,” He began, “But, I – I can’t leave. There are many evils to thwart in London, after all.”

At this, Gabriel hummed and nodded in agreement, “Yes, there does seem to be an unusually persistent bout of demonic activity in this area”

Aziraphale gulped, hopefully not as loudly as he it had sounded in his head, and covered it with a somewhat shaky laugh, “Yes – yes, indeed – so you see, it is vitally important that I be allowed to continue my work. Not, erm, not that your offer isn’t very much appreciated.”

Gabriel smiled that small little half-smile of his. The one that Aziraphale had come to realise meant that the Archangel was disappointed, but had understood Aziraphale’s point. It was a smile that had the angel breathing a bit steadier and had his shoulders relaxing just enough. He rose to his feet when Gabriel did and turned to face the Archangel, in the assumption that the other was preparing himself to leave again.

He could admit to himself that he almost jumped when Gabriel placed a finger under his chin to direct his gaze up to Gabriel,

“You are a good angel, Aziraphale. Your demotion and placement upon Earth was – unfair – but you have taken to your role well, and I am proud of your work here.”

Aziraphale’s lips parted to allow a stuttered breath to escape. Gabriel had never spoken words like these to him before. He had always assumed that his demotion was the reason Gabriel had distanced himself. To know that Gabriel appreciated the work he’d been doing on Earth. It was something Aziraphale hadn’t been expecting.

The feeling of Gabriel’s lips on his own was even more unexpected. There was a familiarity to this feeling. The soft press of Gabriel’s skin against his own, the feel of Gabriel’s tongue swiping insistently against the seam of his mouth, the light moan it still managed to draw from him when entrance was allowed. It was... nice. It was pleasant. Aziraphale could feel that familiar tingling in his loins as Gabriel pressed him further into the wall.

He could have let himself get carried away. He could have quite easily let Gabriel take him into the inn’s upstairs rooms, and felt the intensity of Gabriel’s desires as the Archangel claimed him once more. And had this been a few millennia ago, before Gabriel seemed to forget he even existed, before he'd come across his demon in an inn in Ancient Rome, he probably would have. It would have been the _correct_ thing to do. To tell Crowley that it had all been good fun, but he was wanted in Heaven again and he was sure he’d see him the next time he came down.

But, that wasn’t what he wanted. Not if he were being truthful with himself. And then Gabriel pulled away, and looked down at Aziraphale, who was still somewhat dazed at the onslaught,

“You smell different” He said, a frown furrowed between neatly trimmed eyebrows, “Is your aura… darker, somehow?”

Aziraphale was quickly shaken out of his own thoughts, and was instantly made aware of the fact that, upon his genitalia having made a reappearance, he was also still full of Crowley’s seed. He could sense it within him, painted on his inner walls as though taking root within him. The thought was equal parts thrilling and terrifying, and the fact that Gabriel could sense _something…_

“Oh,” Aziraphale began with a stammer, “It’s probably just all the evil around the city. Can sometimes interfere with the senses, you see”

The excuse was ridiculous. Aziraphale had known how ridiculous it sounded even as his mouth formed the words. However, that didn’t stop Gabriel from nodding in understanding and Aziraphale wondered, not for the first time, whether he should feel guilty about his deception. He knew, though, what the consequences would be, should Heaven find out about his relationship with the demon.

Then Gabriel drew himself to his full height, “As much as I would love to stay here with you and reacquaint myself with your Earthly form,” he grinned as Aziraphale ducked his head and blushed, “Heaven does require a report of our discussion today. You will see me soon though.”

 _No, I won’t._ Aziraphale thought, even as Gabriel took his hand and placed a delicate kiss upon his knuckles. It was dreadfully romantic. The smallest tendrils of regret wove through his core as he wondered what it might have been like, should Gabriel have not abandoned him here on Earth. Those tendrils all but disappearing as the heavenly light shone down and took Gabriel with it, his departure ensuring that crowds of men would soon be bustling their way back into the inn, and Aziraphale took that as his cue to leave as well.

***

“Why would they just, destroy it like that?!” Aziraphale cried, having just witnessed the first pillars fall from the Globe theatre before he’d run into Crowley.

“Sir Brend wants his houses.” Is all the demon could say in return, watching as Aziraphale paced the small room they’d found for themselves. He’d found the angel quite by chance. Not that he had thought that Aziraphale wouldn’t be there. He knew of the angel’s affinity for plays and stage shows, he’d been to see a fair number of them with him. Aziraphale was so expressive when it came to watching a play, he would laugh and cry and gasp and applaud at all the correct moments.

It was, quite frankly, a joy to watch. Even more so than the actual play that Crowley was supposed to be enjoying. This, on the other hand, was Aziraphale being expressive in an entirely different way. Crowley had to admit, when Aziraphale had dragged him to the nearest unoccupied room and told him that he couldn’t be around _people_ anymore, he had assumed that something else might have been taking place. Something that didn’t involve him sitting on a somewhat uncomfortable chair watching his angel complain animatedly about extremists who didn’t know how to have a good time.

“But everything William worked for…”

“He’s gone, angel,” Crowley reminded him, as gently as he could, “and we both knew Sir Brend wouldn’t keep it there forever, especially after it cost so much to rebuild.”

“It’s not fair, though,” Aziraphale stated, again, his tone nearing something that might have resembled a whine, “what do these people have against _fun_?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at the angel, his glasses long since removed and placed on a nearby table so as to allow for the full impact of his incredulous look, “They’re only doing as they think the Almighty wants. Sounds to me like they’ve got just about the right idea.”

Aziraphale gaped at him, “Excuse-”

“If they stay in charge much longer,” Crowley interjected before Aziraphale could continue, “they’ll have this place looking like Heaven in no time at all”

“But they’re making everybody miserable!” 

Crowley didn’t reply, instead choosing to watch for a moment as the angel huffed and folded his arms over his chest and just as the beginnings of a pout started to show on his lips, Crowley decided to speak up,

“Aziraphale,” He said, his voice low and serious, “You’re starting to sound like a child”

“I’m not!” Aziraphale looked about one second from stamping his foot in frustration, “You’re just not taking this seriously enough”

Then he widened his eyes considerably, realising his error in taking out said frustration on Crowley rather than on the Puritan people that he was truly upset with. Crowley allowed an almost dangerous-looking smirk to slither onto his face. The goatee had disappeared a couple of decades ago, the demon having decided that the itchiness was most unpleasant. Aziraphale was both grateful and saddened by its loss. What it did mean, however, was that Aziraphale could experience the full impact of these dangerous smirks of Crowley’s.

“Oh, I’m not being serious enough for you?” He said. The question was rhetorical, they both knew it, but Aziraphale couldn’t help but see how far he could push as he shook his head, not trusting his voice to sound even.

Crowley narrowed his eyes a fraction, his tongue darting out to wet his lips a touch. Then, with a snap of the fingers, a luxurious bed appeared behind him. All beds that Crowley touched had to be luxurious. He wasn’t about to let either himself or his angel be uncomfortable. Especially with what he had planned.

“Strip” He said, simply, allowing his angel a few moments to understand the change in atmosphere,

“But w…”

Aziraphale was about to question. Had formed the ‘why’ with his mouth and everything, but one look from the demon in front of him had him gulping the word back down as he brought shaky hands up to fumble with the buttons on his doublet. It seemed a near herculean effort, with Crowley’s eyes watching his every movement, the pupils widening as more and more skin began to be revealed.

He’d just shrugged off his shirt, and was about to begin unclasping his undergarment,

“Wait”

His hands stopped and he looked up, curious at the command. He stayed silent, waiting for Crowley to speak again, to either explain or request something of him.

“Leave that on” Crowley gestured to the corset that clung to Aziraphale’s waist. The light boning created a subtle curve to his figure that he greatly appreciated. It wasn’t an uncommon fashion choice for men in this era, however Aziraphale had definitely opted for a more feminine style for his corset. The lace trim and fine gold detailing appealed to him when he’d first spotted it in the window of a local corsetiere and by the look on Crowley’s face, it appealed to the demon as well.

Aziraphale moved his hands to his trousers, and allowed the material to fall and pool at his feet, hyperaware of how Crowley’s eyes watched him hungrily.

Once he was finished, he stood somewhat awkwardly in the centre of the room, his hands wringing nervously in front of him while he awaited his next instruction. Crowley had crossed the room to circle him, his hands almost twitching with the need to touch the glorious expanse of skin that had been bared before him. He circled once more, then stopped behind his angel and leant towards his ear,

“On the bed, face down” He whispered in the other’s ear, nipping just slightly at the sensitive skin of his lobe and relishing the way the angel jumped to obey.

They had played this game a few times before; it was something they drifted towards whenever Aziraphale had been worked up about something and had needed a kind, but firm hand to calm down. It was almost therapeutic for the angel. A craving of some kind.

And, oh, how Crowley was happy to sate his angel’s craving in this way. He drank in the sight before him. Aziraphale, on his stomach, the gentle curve of his back leading to that wonderful swell of his arse in the air. His spread legs showing those glistening folds that were so eager to be touched and yet his angel stayed perfectly still while he waited for the demon to make his next move. Not even moving when as the bed dipped and long fingers tickled up and down his thighs, just the ragged inhale and exhale of conscious breaths.

“Oh, angel,” Crowley murmured as he ran his hands across the smooth skin before him, briefly grabbing hold of the full globes of Aziraphale’s arse cheeks before letting go just as quickly, a teasing hint before the real thing, “Whatever are we to do with you?”

Crowley darted his hand between the angels legs, running a finger across the seam of Aziraphale’s already dripping cunt, “You’ve been a greedy little angel,” He continued, as Aziraphale squirmed and moaned into the pillow, wanting to arch into Crowley’s touch but knowing he wasn’t allowed, “Always wanting what he knows he can’t have”

The demon dipped his fingers into the slick folds, removing them quickly and then holding those same fingers up to Aziraphale’s mouth, “I want you to taste yourself on my fingers,” Crowley explained, “I want you to taste your desire for me, a demon of Hell”

Aziraphale didn’t need telling anymore, his mouth opened instantly as he licked his own essence from Crowley, sucking on the appendages in much the same manner he would a certain other part of Crowley’s anatomy. He glanced up, as best he could from his position, to catch Crowley’s eyes. The hunger within them spurring him on all the more eagerly.

He whimpered almost pitifully when Crowley removed the fingers. He wanted something to fill him, whether that be in his cunt, or his arse, or his mouth, he wasn’t particularly fussed at that precise moment.

“Ah, ah, angel,” Crowley tsk’ed him, before he slithered his body further down Aziraphale’s legs, “You’re listening to me, remember” He said as he sank sharp teeth into the skin of Aziraphale’s thigh, his hands still groping at the angels hips and arse. He never bit too hard, just enough the mark the pale skin. He wondered, for a moment, whether the angel miracle’d the marks away after desires had been sated and they had parted ways again. There was a part of him that greatly hoped he didn’t. A part of him that hoped that he left the marks to disappear naturally as a reminder of their time together.

He would never ask though.

Eventually he reached the top of the angel’s thighs. The scent of Aziraphale’s desire was coming off him in waves, invading every one of Crowley’s senses. It was addictive. He ran his tongue from the hole of Aziraphale’s cunt, to the hole of his arse, groaning at the taste of his angel on his taste buds. He could hear Aziraphale panting into the pillow, and could almost picture the way his eyes would be screwed up at the teasing sensations.

“Crowley, Crowley, please… you needn’t be so cruel”

The words were out before Aziraphale could stop them and in was a mere second before Crowley stopped tasting his delicious treat and rose back up.

“Now, what did we say about being needy?”

Aziraphale knew better than to answer this time, as he hid his face further into the pillow. He felt the sharp tap on his arse, the shock of it greater than any pain Crowley had ever inflicted on him, and it forced a yelp to sound from his throat,

“No hiding away, angel,” Crowley reminded him, “now turn around, and lean on your elbows. Time to take some of my own pleasure, I think”

Aziraphale scrambled to obey, propping his upper body onto his elbows. He knew what came next, and was grateful for the pillows that had materialised under his upper back. He wasn’t to use them yet though, they were for when he arms truly ached and he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. He looked up at Crowley through thick eyelashes, wanting to open his mouth ready but also needing to wait for that request.

Crowley’s gaze softened at the sight. His angel, waiting and willing to have Crowley’s cock in his mouth. It was something most demons could only dream of, to have an angel submit like this. But most demons weren’t like Crowley, and most angels weren’t like Aziraphale. And, as Crowley ran the head of his cock along the closed seam of Aziraphale’s mouth, watching the pre-come spread over red lips, he couldn’t help but think of himself as the luckiest demon alive.

“Open up now, angel” It came out as less of a command, and more of a request, but the effect was the same and Aziraphale’s lips parted to make way for Crowley’s length, a groan pulled itself from Crowley’s throat as he felt the warm wet heat of Aziraphale’s mouth surround his cock. He stroked through Aziraphale’s hair, tugging every so often when the angel’s eyes began to flutter shut,

“Ah, ah,” He tutted, “look at me while you take my cock” He didn’t want those perfect eyes turned away from him for a second. “You’re so beautiful” He soothed as he ran a hand through white-blonde locks, watching as the light shimmered through the tresses. In return, Aziraphale hummed around the length down his throat, the vibrations sending shivers down Crowley’s spine as his pace sped up.

He could feel Aziraphale’s throat clenching around him as he tried to swallow him down, the muscles contracting with each thrust as he tried to suck him down and he was thankful that the angel had neither a real need for breath, nor a gag reflex. His gluttonous angel would likely allow himself to suffocate before he let Crowley’s cock go. The sight of Aziraphale worshipping his cock like some delectably luxurious dessert had Crowley finishing much sooner than he had planned, spending himself deep down Aziraphale’s throat as the excess ran down the sides of his mouth and down his neck.

The angel whimpered, just a bit, when Crowley pulled away.

“Hush now, there’s more to come” He soothed as he leaned down to claim Aziraphale’s mouth, his tongue exploring inside to taste the remnants of himself as his hand wandered down Aziraphale’s body, who was so caught up in Crowley’s near-bruising kiss that his entire body convulsed when Crowley reached his clit.

He fingers it, presses onto it, and rolls it between his index and middle fingers, and he watches with an intense focus as Aziraphale’s body jolts with pleasure at each touch. He alternates between playing with his clit and dipping his fingers into the warm, welcoming heat of his body. His cock twitching already at the thought of being buried in that same heat. He felt Aziraphale’s walls begin to clench and flutter around his fingers, his soft moans becoming louder and more desperate. His angel was close, the intensity of the situation becoming too much for him, and Crowley pulls away before Aziraphale can actually come. He nearly sobs with the pressure of it, the unrelenting need for release and yet not being able to go over the edge without Crowley’s approval.

“Please, Crowley, please… I need it… I need you… I beg you” He stumbled over his words, each syllable punctuated by a breathless whimper or a light moan.

Crowley takes pity on his angel, “Don’t worry, angel, I’m here”, is all the warning he gives before he sinks his full length deep into Aziraphale’s recipient body. The angel’s cunt sucking him in greedily, clenching around his still sensitive length and Crowley had to focus all of his energy on not blowing his load in that instant.

“Oh, yes, Crowley, my dear,” Aziraphale babbled as he moaned in relief, looking between their bodies at the sight of Crowley’s cock disappearing into him again and again, “ah, more… please … harder, Crowley…”

Crowley complied, adjusting his speed and angle to suit his angel’s needs, revelling in the change of the pitch of his moans as he neared his peak. He pushed Aziraphale’s knees up to his chest, allowing him to reach deeper into his body, to hit all of Aziraphale’s most sensitive nerve endings with every thrust.

Neither of them were going to last much longer. Crowley could feel his balls tightening against his body, his movements becoming less precise and more frantic as he chased he second release, Aziraphale’s tight walls pulling it from him as much as they could. He leant down to capture his angel’s lips, swallowing the moan that was just about to escape as his body tensed with the force of his orgasm. That tightening sensation pulled Crowley’s release from him almost immediately, as he buried his cock in as far as it would go, releasing his spend deep within Aziraphale’s body and coating his walls with it.

Aziraphale was whimpering a litany of ‘thank you’s’ and various praises upon Crowley between kisses, his arms raising to hold Crowley as close to himself as he could. Crowley, meanwhile, was still thrusting shallowly, the feel of Aziraphale’s walls clenching around him was quickly becoming an addictive sensation. It was only when the angel pushed lightly against his chest with a soft, _“Too much”_ , did Crowley pull out of him and wrap his arms tightly around the celestial being.

“Fuck, what did I ever do to deserve you, angel?” The whispered against the blonde curls.

Aziraphale chuckled breathlessly, “Sometimes I wonder the same thing”

Crowley smirked and swiped playfully at the other’s shoulder, “Hmm, cheeky”, he said simply.

It was only later, when they’d both returned from post-orgasm bliss and Crowley was comfortably using Aziraphale’s stomach as a pillow, his scalp tingling as the angel carded his fingers through his hair and the smell of sex still lingering in the air, did the conversation turn to decidedly less pleasant things.

“It’s going to start soon” The angel spoke above him, his tone soft and distant. It was though he hadn’t directed the statement at Crowley at all, and indeed, when Crowley looked up he saw Aziraphale’s gaze looking unfocused into the far corner of the room.

“What’s starting, angel?”

Aziraphale blinked and turned to Crowley, almost shocked that Crowley had even replied, “Oh, yes, erm,” he swallowed, nervously, “It’s just, the Almighty is sending another outbreak to London”

Crowley furrowed his brow, “An ‘outbreak’… you don’t mean…”

Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley might have seen the distress written on his face, had he not chosen that moment to groan and bury his face into the skin of the angel’s stomach.

“Oh piss, not another one,” He grumbled, “I’ve only just got back from Italy after their last outbreak. Couldn’t even give me a decade…”

The angel shifted, jostling Crowley from his position and fixing a disbelieving glare his way, “Excuse me?”

“You know you’re lot are making things far too easy for my lot,” Crowley explained, “Doesn’t take a lot right now, a bit of doubt, a bit of greed, a touch of fear… soon enough you’ve got swaths of souls turning from Her light and taking a running dive to the Big Guy at the end. Still using the rat method?”

Aziraphale shrugged, “I’m not sure. I would presume so, it’s, er, ‘tried and true’, after all. Gabriel didn’t specify though”

It then came to Crowley’s attention that Aziraphale’s mood had shifted considerably, and so he shuffled closer, trying not to flinch when Aziraphale turned away from him. It was best not to think of why that stung more than it was probably meant to. He placed a hand on the angel’s shoulder and waited for him to speak again.

They sat in silence for only a moment, Crowley focusing all of his attention on Aziraphale. It was just a moment, but it felt like an eternity before Aziraphale opened his mouth again,

“Why won’t She just let it end already? Surely humanity have learnt their lesson by now” He did turned back to Crowley at this, looking imploringly at the demon as though he held the answers to Aziraphale’s questions. He was treading dangerous ground again. This felt much like it did when he stopped Aziraphale from announcing his feelings. One slight push from Crowley, a hint or a suggestion could be like water on the already planted seeds of doubt. It used to be that just the seed would cause an angel to Fall, as it was when he Fell. The Almighty had become more lenient, apparently.

He could do it. Easily. He’d be granted a lordship immediately if he wandered back Down with a corrupted angel in tow. They would give him Aziraphale, obviously, as though he were only a prize to be won. A trophy to show off, even. He would be an equal to the likes of Beelzebub and Lucifer. He could picture it in his head.

_“She’ll never let it end, Aziraphale. Haven’t you learnt anything? She is cruel. She doesn’t care about humanity. She only cares that both her angels and humanity submit to her. Take it from someone who knows, angel.”_

_And his angel would be so trusting of him. No reason to suspect that Crowley would tell him anything that wasn’t true. His beautiful little fool of an angel. He would nod to start with, and the process would start. Crowley would have to prompt just a bit further,_

_“I bet Gabriel didn’t sound even contrite, did he? He is the ideal for one of Her angels. Is that truly what you want be?”_

_A shake of the head would come. Crowley knew this for certain. Aziraphale had spent much of his time complaining about how by-the-book Gabriel was, how he had no regard for the welfare of humanity, how he kept telling Aziraphale how to be a better angel. That was the seed._

_“It’s cruel, isn’t it, angel? She’s cruel, isn’t she? Can you even feel Her love anymore?”_

_It would be pulled from his throat in a sob, “No, I can’t. She is cruel, you’re right, Crowley. I - I don’t think I want to serve Her anymore”_

_And that would be that. There would be no turning back. He would feel the darkness course through him, the pain enflaming throughout his body, tearing his soul to shreds and remoulding it at the same time. His wings would burst from him and burn, it would be agony. His mouth would be open in a silent scream, for no sounds could ever truly convey the torture he would be going through –_

Crowley closed his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to erase the image in his head. He remembered that agony. The torture and the pain and the trauma. Could he even allow his angel to go through that?

“Crowley?” Aziraphale voice broke through his thoughts, soft, and gentle, and so full of that special mix of kindness and worry that had comforted not only Crowley, but also various people through the millennia. The sound of it had Crowley wrapping the angel up in his arms, burying his face in the juncture between Aziraphale’s neck and shoulder to inhale that sweet scent that was so undeniably _him._   

“Crowley, what’s wrong?”

“We won’t stay here, angel.” The demon announced, lifting his head to look Aziraphale in the eyes,

“Whatever do you mean?”

“You said it was just London, right?” Aziraphale nodded, a confused furrow between his brows, “Well, then we’ll go to the countryside for a while. We’ll let it run its course here and then return afterwards. We can even pop back periodically, if you want? Do some blessings and temptations on the suffering? You know, keep the head offices happy and all of that. I can do both, if you would rather not come back while it’s ongoing”

Aziraphale searched the demon’s eyes, seemingly assessing the words he was saying, “Crowley, you know how I feel about you doing blessings – I don’t like it when you risk yourself”

“Hell won’t know, angel, I can make sure of that” And he could. All he had to do was claim it was all for the purpose of corrupting the angel. The final stages of temptation, or something to that effect.

Aziraphale chewed on his lower lip, worrying the plump flesh between his teeth. Crowley could see how the suggestion appealed to him, so he tried one last thing, “Please, angel, I don’t want to have to watch you go through it all again”

The angel looked up, eyes wide as dinner plates as he contemplated what to do. He opened his mouth, almost as if to make another argument, and then snapped it shut again and nodded resolutely, “Okay”

“Okay? Yes? To the country?” Crowley had to clarify, to be sure.

A beatific smile lit up Aziraphale’s face, “To the country, my dear!”


	4. The Realisation

Aziraphale paced around his as-yet-unopened shop, his fingers twisting and turning the medal that hung from his neck around and around. It was supposed to be a day of excitement, and joy, and celebration. Crowley had even brought him a gift, apparently, to mark the occasion. The grand opening was due to start within the hour, though a quick miracle had erased the memory of an invite from the minds of the people he’d chosen to attend. He wasn’t really in the mood for a ‘grand opening’ anymore.

The bookshop was something he’d wanted for a while now, somewhere to store the collection of books he’d acquired throughout the ages. Crowley had stumbled across the building and had contacted Aziraphale immediately about it, claiming that the angel needed a ‘base’ so to speak, as opposed to going about things in the rather nomadic way he’d been doing previously. And this was perfect; cosy, with dark woods and lush velvet fabrics and just enough windows to let the light in, but not enough so that people could see everything. That it was, in fact, a shop was about the only thing that could pose a problem.

So of course, now would be the time that Gabriel and that new sidekick of his, Sandalphon, would show up to make everything awkward.  _A promotion._ It must have been one of Gabriel’s attempt to get Aziraphale back up to Heaven. They’d been relatively frequent since the Great Fire, wherein he’d arrived to check on Aziraphale’s wellbeing and had mentioned again whether he was getting tired of his duties on Earth, and did he want Gabriel to put in a word for him in Heaven and get him relocated.

Aziraphale had politely declined each time. Earth was where he wanted to be. It wasn’t just that Earth was the only place where he would be able to see Crowley, though the idea of going eternity without the demon sent a feeling of cold dread throughout his body, but Earth also held wonders. He enjoyed seeing what humanity could create, how they survived terrible ordeals, how they stumbled and tripped and yet still managed to come out the other side stronger than they had previously been.

He didn’t want to miss any of it.

He’d looked into Gabriel’s eyes, bright and earnest in their joy at the idea of having Aziraphale back in Heaven, he’d heard the Archangel tell him that he would  _‘get to come home’_ and all Aziraphale could think was that Heaven hadn’t felt like  _his_  home for a very long time. And yet, fool angel that he was, he had simply smiled and nodded, the tightness in his throat almost reaching the point of pain, and had watched as the agents of Heaven walked down the street.

He sighed and ran a finger down the newly polished shelf, wondering how they might have looked once full to the brim with beautiful leather-bound tomes, neatly catalogued and organised and in perfect condition. He’d put a few up already and realised, with a pang, that he really ought to take them back down again. Whichever angel was supposed to take over his shop as their ‘base of operations’, as Gabriel had put it, wouldn’t be allowed access to his collection. He would have to ask Crowley if he might be able to store them somewhere. And wasn’t that a mistake to think about.

 _His demon._  Would he ever be able to see him again? Would Heaven allow him the opportunity to return to Earth at all? And even if they did, would they have him under observation? Had Crowley understood what was going on when Aziraphale had spotted him through the window when Gabriel and Sandalphon had delivered the news?

He was so caught up in his thoughts that the sound of the doorbell chiming had him nearly jumping out of his skin. He attempted to composed himself as he turned to greet whoever had entered the shop, just about ready to tell them that it was closed, likely for good and to go and find some other bookshop that might be able to satisfy their needs, and then he heard,

“I’m afraid I’ve returned with bad news!”

And as he turned around fully, he was accosted by Gabriel, in his new luxurious suit, laying strong hands on his upper arms, a somewhat anguished look on his face,

“‘Bad news’?” Aziraphale repeated, “Wh-what do you mean, ‘bad news’?”

“We can’t take you back with us, Aziraphale”

And Gabriel looked genuinely upset at having to deliver what he was certain would be very disappointing news for the Principality. However, Aziraphale was having quite a hard time of trying to keep a bright smile from appearing on his face. To try to disguise it, he simply rose an eyebrow and clarified,

“So I’m … not going anywhere?”

Gabriel nodded, his grip on Aziraphale’s arms loosening, “Yes, I’m afraid we’ve had to make a change of plans. We need you here. In your bookshop. Battling evil.”

 _‘Battling evil’?_ What in the world had happened at that tailor shop? He might have thought to ask the question, but then he was encased in powerful arms and hugged tightly to the Archangel’s well muscles chest. That tailor truly did do good work. Perhaps Aziraphale should take Crowley there…

The embrace lasted a moment longer, and as he released Aziraphale, Gabriel kissed both of his cheeks sweetly, “As much of an asset as you would have been in Heaven, your work here is too important”

He took a couple steps back and made for the door as Sandalphon approached him and proceeded to give him a ‘light punch’ to the arm, which had Aziraphale wincing as the angelic bodyguard told him to “Keep battling!”

Aziraphale smiled tightly at him, resisted the urge to rub the area on his arm that Sandalphon had made contact with, and went to remove the medal from his neck,

“No, please, keep the medal,” Gabriel said, a hint of urgency to his voice, “You have earned that, and besides, it looks good on you”

And with a wink that brought just the hint of a blush to his cheeks, the angels had left again and all of five seconds later, Aziraphale heard a knock on the front doors.

With a slight huff, he made for the entrance, all the while yelling through, “I’m sorry, there’s no grand opening, regular business will begin on…”

The rest of the sentence died on his tongue as he opened to find his demon in the doorway, cutting quite the figure in his newly acquired black Regency outfit. The cut and style of the tailoring work seemed familiar somehow.

Crowley grinned at him and tipped his hat, just a touch, “Good afternoon, my angel” He greeted as he strolled in past Aziraphale, who closed the door behind him and turned to face the demon, arms folded pointedly across his chest, while said demon proceeded to inspect the décor, “Well, this is quite a lovely little establishment isn’t it? Are you enjoying it so far?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, “What did you do?” He said, by way of an answer,

“I don’t know what you mean” Crowley replied, with just an air of faux-offence to his tone,

“You know exactly what I mean. What did you do to make them leave so suddenly?”

Crowley’s grin transformed into a particularly proud looking smile, “So it worked perfectly then?” At Aziraphale’s raised eyebrows and patiently waiting look, he continued, “Oh, I just put on a little performance where I knew that bastard could hear me. Made him think that the only thing between me and total dominion over this land was you,  _my powerful angel_ ”

Aziraphale kept his gaze steadily trained on his demon. Letting his face showed next-to-no emotion, trying to keep the smile off his face until he could see Crowley squirm where he stood. The cocky little grin that he’d entered with was slowly fading, a concerned look replacing that previous pride.

“Oh, Aziraphale, I’m sorry… I know I didn’t ask bu…”

He was cut off by Aziraphale practically launching himself into his arms, holding his demon as close to his body as he could while he repeated the words “Thank you”, into his shoulder. Aziraphale could feel the demon relax and return the embrace, arms curling around the angel’s shoulders and clutching back as tightly as Aziraphale was.

“Don’t scare me like that, I genuinely thought you were upset about it” Crowley whispered into his neck as he breathed in the scent of his angel and sighed in relief, “I couldn’t let him take you away, we’ve only just gotten started”

Aziraphale huffed a laugh, though his throat was strangely tight when he spoke again, “Only just? We’ve been doing this for almost 2000 years”

“Hmm. And we’ll be doing it for the rest of time if I have anything to say about it”

Aziraphale pulled himself out of Crowley’s embrace, fixing the demon with a somewhat curious look, “Will we, though? You know what’s been written…”

The demon sighed, “Yes, I do”

A silence fell upon them, awkward and distancing in its nature. The volume of the noises outside seemed to have increased and all at once Aziraphale was cursing his own need to voice his thoughts. It was going to get him in trouble one of these days, he was certain. It was just that it was on his mind, had been on his mind for quite some time.  _The Great Plan_ , as it had been taught to him, wherein it is said that the world shall be in existence for 6000 years and end in fire and flame. The words had been imprinted within him, never to be forgotten, however much he might have wanted to.

There were no guidelines to follow, as far as he knew, nothing to tell him how the world would end or what would become of Heaven and Hell. And he couldn’t help but wonder, where would that leave him and Crowley? Did they really have only a few hundred years left together?

“Let us not think upon it, my dear” Aziraphale cleared his throat, and then pointed to the parcel that Crowley had placed on the desk as he’d walked in, “What is that?”

Crowley snapped out of his own thoughts, “Oh, yes, of course,” He picked the parcel up and offered it to Aziraphale, “A celebratory gift. To welcome you into your new residency”

Aziraphale smiled warmly, “My dear demon, you do spoil me” He spoke as he plucked at the string keeping the paper together, the bow unfastening quickly and the paper parting to reveal chocolate from one of the finest chocolatier’s in France. One of the only chocolatier’s in France. The delicacy was relatively new, and Aziraphale had found himself delighted by the sweet flavours when he’d first tasted them during the French Revolution. 

“Oh! How wonderful!” He exclaimed, “However did you come to be in possession of it”

Crowley simply shrugged and offered only that smile of his that meant  _‘that’s for me to know and for you to wonder about’_ and Aziraphale would have been frustrated at the demon’s coy nature had it not been for the wonderful smells that were emanating from the package.

“Shall we try some, in any case?”

“You enjoy it, angel,” He drawled, as he sidled closer to the angel in question, “It’s quite rare to find it like this” He indicated to the fact that the chocolate had come in a bar form. The practice was extremely new, chocolate having usually only existed as a drink. He moved behind Aziraphale, reaching around the angel’s body to peel back the chocolate wrapping before breaking off a small segment, some cocoa crumbling around his fingers.

Aziraphale looked around at him, waiting for an explanation in regards to Crowley’s actions, when he felt the piece of chocolate touch his lips and Crowley’s voice whisper in his ear, “Go on, try it”

It didn’t take a lot of convincing, as he opened his mouth obediently, closing his lips around Crowley’s dexterous fingers and licking the excess cocoa off of them. He could hear the light groan from behind him and pushed back against the other’s body to find the demon was very much interested in the little display that Aziraphale was putting on. He took it just one step further and allowed his own moan to vibrate around Crowley’s fingers as the tastes fell upon his tongue.

“Angel,” Crowley spoke again, his voice low and dark in his ear and Aziraphale could feel his body begin to make an effort, “Unless you want me to take you right here against this desk, I suggest you release those fingers. I would really rather we take this to the bedroom”

Aziraphale did release his fingers at that. Not to say that the idea of being bent over his brand new reading desk and taken roughly by his demon lover for anyone walking pass to see wasn’t enthralling, and a large part of Aziraphale was ready to Crowley to do exactly that, it was just that Crowley’s suggestion of a bedroom had him confused.

Crowley had clearly noticed the hesitation on his face, “Aziraphale, tell me you remembered to include a bedroom when you set this place up”

Aziraphale had the good sense to look at least a little bit sheepish at his forgetfulness, “Well, I suppose I focussed on the bookshop part of the residency…”

“And forgot you were supposed to be living here?”

“Well, it’s not as though I sleep”

“Angel, I’m not using demonic miracles every time we fancy a softer place to enjoy each other”

Aziraphale blushed, “Well, just once more won’t hurt, surely?”

He set the chocolate down and turned within the confines of Crowley’s arms, reaching his hands up to interlock behind the demon’s neck, his thumbs playing with the tufts of hair just behind his ear. Sometimes he missed the longer hair that Crowley had sported throughout the ages. He missed the way he could wrap his fingers in it, use it to tug his demon to wherever he wanted him, should he be in a pliable enough mood.

He noticed, Crowley having removed his glasses between feeding Aziraphale the chocolate and Aziraphale turning around, that Crowley’s pupils were blown wide, and he thought that Crowley was just a second away from snapping his fingers to –

“Oh no, angel,” He grinned a lecherous grin, “Not this time. Clearly, you don’t want a nice, comfortable bed to be worshipped in, do you? My angel likes it a bit rough, doesn’t he? Wants his demon to take him, right here, against his brand new bookshelves?”

Aziraphale hadn’t even noticed that he’d been backed up to one of the empty bookshelves until his back pressed up against it, hadn’t noticed that his breathing had stopped and he hadn’t blinked since Crowley had started talking. Crowley did snap his fingers, but it was simply to divest Aziraphale of the troublesome clothing. Why did humans find it so necessary to wear so many layers of clothes nowadays?

The cool air hit his skin instantly, his nipples pebbling at the sensation and Crowley was there in an instant, mouth lavishing attention on one while those clever fingers of his played with his other, rolling and nipping and pressing and squeezing, just on the border between pleasure and pain.  Aziraphale was overcome with the sensations it was giving him, as he tried desperately to rub his sex against Crowley’s thigh, or hip, or stomach, or anything he could reach. Except everything was all just slightly out of reach.

Finally, Crowley released one nipple from his mouth and Aziraphale nearly wept with joy at the thought that that wonderfully forked tongue might descend just a touch further down. It was almost a torture when the demon simply attacked the other nipple. Aziraphale’s hands tugged at his hair, whether to push Crowley closer into the task, or to pull him away entirely so that he might focus elsewhere. He wasn’t sure until, without any prior warning, he felt two fingers enter his body, his walls clenching down hard on the intruder while he attempting to relax himself.

“That’s it, angel, let me in” He soothed, his voice a purr against his sensitive skin, sending shivers down his spine. The demon used his thumb to play with Aziraphale’s clit, and he almost felt his legs give way at the little jolts of pleasure that coursed through him at the almost-too-light touches.

They had been doing this for millennia, Crowley knew every inch of Aziraphale’s body by heart, every dip and curve and swell and sensitivity, he knew what every intake of breath signified, what every clutch into his hair meant. When it came to Aziraphale’s corporeal form, Crowley was the leading expert. And never was that so obvious than when he was two fingers deep, reaching that delicious spot inside him with pinpoint accuracy, making him see stars with an ease that should have been embarrassing as the angel held onto his demon’s hair to keep himself steady.

Another sharp nip to his already swollen nipple had Aziraphale almost screeching in pleasure, his knees feeling like jelly as he longed to wrap his legs around Crowley, desired against all for Crowley to replace his fingers with his beautifully sized cock, wished for that sense of fullness like nothing else.

“I want you to come like this, angel,” Crowley said to him, ceasing his lavishing, looking up at his flushed angel through dark eyelashes, “I want to feel you come from just my fingers and my mouth and I want you to keep yourself upright and against this bookshelf the whole time. Do you understand?”

Aziraphale whimpered and made a half-hearted attempt to nod his head, though Crowley’s wicked fingers had just found their target once more and he had to throw a hand back to grip onto the wooden shelves.

“I think you might need a bit of an incentive, don’t you?” Crowley smirked as he lowered himself down onto his knees, his forked tongue flicked at his clit, right where his thumb had just been and Aziraphale cried out at the barely-there contact, “If you fail, angel, this will be all we do today. I won’t fill you the way you want to be filled. You will have to be satisfied by just the one, single orgasm. If you succeed then I shall be merciful. I will miracle us a comfortable sofa, where I will take you as many times as you like. I think that’s fair, don’t you, my angel?”

Aziraphale managed to nod vigorously, to which Crowley smiled, satisfied, and went to work on making Aziraphale come as quickly as he good. Three fingers deep now, his mouth working on the angel’s clit, tongue dragging up the sensitive nub, teeth nipping and lips sucking. Aziraphale legs were shaking with the effort of keeping himself on his own two feet, one hand was held on the wooden shelf in a white-knuckled grip, the other was against his mouth, his own teeth creating little indentations in the skin there.

Crowley removed his fingers, much to Aziraphale’s displeasure, a fact he made known with a groaned out “No, please, don’t stop, I’m so close, please”

The demon hushed him, moved his hands to grip on to the full globes of Aziraphale’s arse cheeks, and within a short moment Aziraphale that long, forked tongue that had been doing such wonderful things to his clit, now penetrated the wet, aching, warmth of his entrance. Crowley moaned as the taste of his angel reached his taste buds, the sound vibrating through the entirety of Aziraphale’s body. The angel gasped in pleasure, one hand reaching down to curl around the back of Crowley’s head, forcing the demon as close to him as he could go.

He didn’t have to work that hard, his fingers having got Aziraphale near to the edge already, and he could feel the angel’s walls clench around his tongue, his thighs shaking as his climax crept up on him, his fingers grasping his hair tighter, forcing him deeper. His tongue licked into that welcoming warmth, the forked end easily finding its mark as he created a vacuum around Aziraphale’s cunt and continued to moan his satisfaction into his angel.

“Oh, oh, Crowley,” and there it was, the tell-tale sign of Aziraphale’s release, the rise in pitch and urgency in tone, “Oh, Crowley, please, I’m coming, Crowley… I’m…”

His release left him in a silent scream, head tipped back as his pleasure coursed through his body and he longed to be able to collapse boneless onto a comfortable surface. Only the thought of Crowley’s cock filling him kept him standing upright.

Once he felt stable enough to move, he managed to look down at his demon lover. The sight of Crowley on his knees, Aziraphale’s juices dripping down his chin and that same cocky grin stretched across his face was almost enough to get Aziraphale going again. Instead, he used what strength he had left to pull Crowley up to his feet and cupped his face within his hands, pulling the demon’s lips to his own. He could taste himself on those lips, the evidence of what Crowley did to him as clear as day on the demon’s mouth. It was a heady, intoxicating thing and Aziraphale felt positively sinful for the pleasure it gave him.

He took his fill of Crowley’s mouth and then pulled away to his their foreheads together, breathing in the scent of them together. He stayed there for a moment longer, enjoying the peacefulness that followed his orgasm, and then he whispered, “I believe I passed your little test, demon. I think you promised me something in return didn’t you?”

Crowley pulled back fully to look his angel in the eyes, a cheeky glint sparkling in those angelic orbs and it brought a lecherous smile to his face as he lifted one hand and snapped a finger.

“Well, angel?”

Aziraphale turned himself on shaky legs to look to where Crowley had indicated. To his delight he found a large sofa had materialised itself in the room behind the bookshelves,

“Oh, yes, I rather think that’ll do quite nicely, my dear” He declared, as he took Crowley’s hand in his own and pulled him towards his newest acquisition.

***

It was a rare occasion that brought Aziraphale to Crowley’s various places of residency. For the simple fact that the demon seemed to like his privacy. It wasn’t that Aziraphale never wanted to be invited over, nor did he just assume that Crowley would always come to him first. It’s just, that was the way it happened, most of the time.

Now that’s not to say that Aziraphale had never gone to Crowley’s homes. It was just that he’d never gone there without Crowley. It was always the two of them that would stumble back to wherever Crowley had picked to stay together, and then it was only after they had finished with each other that Aziraphale could wander the area that Crowley had chosen, get a feel for the things that his demon enjoyed. Bare space and vibrant green plants seemed to be a standard for him. Rather terrified vibrant green plants. More vibrant and more terrified than most of the houseplants in London.

It seemed weird to approach the ornate wooden door that separated Crowley’s house from the outside world without said demon by his side. However, it had been a while since he had last seen Crowley; he hoped that, just maybe, his demon might be pleased to see that the angel had taken the initiative this time. With that thought in mind, he lifted his hand to knock sharply…

Then his ears picked up irate voices, and paused momentarily, before lowering his hand and bring his ear closer to the door.  _This wasn’t right_ , he reprimanded himself,  _eavesdropping on a being he cared deeply for_.

However, what if Crowley should be in trouble, just a short listen in wouldn’t hurt… right?

“The Lord isn’t happy, Crowley” A gravelly voice, dripping with distaste was the first that Aziraphale heard, “you know what happens when they are not happy”

“Yes, yes, I know,” came Crowley’s familiar flippancy, “Fire and brimstone and all that, I’m quite aware”

“It’s been millennia since you started this little project”

“And it’s very close to being completed, I can assure you both. Would I lie to either of you?”

This time two voices replied, “Yes.”

“Ah, nice to know I’m so highly thought of still. But this time I’m not”

Silence, for a short moment. Aziraphale wondered what project they were referring to. Crowley hadn’t mentioned his demonic work for a while now, only a few small temptations that he’d asked Aziraphale to cover for him as per the Arrangement. Oh, he did so hope that Hell hadn’t found out about that. He didn’t think he could stand it if Hell were to punish Crowley for something so small.

“Why is it taking so long anyway?”

“Well, you know how angels can be, bloody stubborn, the lot of them”

 _Wait, what?_ Cold dread ran down his spine to settle in his stomach. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to stop listening, to go back to his bookshop and pretend he hadn’t heard a thing, continue as normal and look forward to Crowley’s next visit. He had to know, though, what this conversation was about.

“So what are you saying then? The angel won’t Fall or something?” That same gravelly voice queried,

“Every angel can Fall, Ligur, you know that. But apparently it takes a little bit more than it used to.”

 _Falling._ Aziraphale forgot that it was normal practice to allow your corporeal form to breathe. He felt as though he could feel the blood rushing to his head, drowning out every other sound that surrounded him. All he could hear was Crowley’s voice repeating the phrase, ‘Every angel can Fall’, over and over again. It had been said so carelessly. As though Falling weren’t one of Aziraphale’s worst nightmares.  

He had to get out of here; he just couldn’t stand here any longer. He had to get himself away from the group of demons on the other side of that door, one of which he had thought he would never try to get away from.

He passed humans in a blur, knocking into gentlemen as they walked down the street, tripping over ladies skirts in his haste. He heard himself apologise, though he barely recognised the voice as his own, before his focus returned on getting back to his bookshop and closing the curtains to hide himself away from prying eyes while he attempted to collect his thoughts as they ran through his head at a lightning fast speed.

He supposed he could have used a miracle to get himself there in an instant, though he didn’t trust himself to perform a miracle with any degree of success. No, using normal human methods of transportation was the safest way right now. And he made it back in record time, as he slammed the heavy wooden door shut behind him and allowed his body to sink against it. He could feel tears stinging his eyes and a painful lump form in his throat.

How could he have been so stupid? Crowley was a demon. How could he have ever thought that a demon could care for him? Because he had  _said_  sweet words and joined their bodies with such a wonderful tenderness? Because Aziraphale had  _thought_  that he could feel a love between them? He couldn’t believe he had made such a careless mistake. Crowley’s speciality was in temptation. He was  _the_  tempter. The creator of sin. The one who had facilitated humanity’s fall from Grace.

And Aziraphale had nearly given up his own Grace for him.

He was supposed to know better. Demons were not to be trusted. Gabriel had reiterated that fact a million times over after Aziraphale had taken up the Eden post.

 _Gabriel had known,_ Aziraphale could only think. He seen that Aziraphale was a foolish angel and had tried to teach him better. And Aziraphale had ignored all of his words. At least, he supposed, Crowley was a better demon than  _he_  was an angel.

Not that that thought made him feel much better.

***

Aziraphale had lost track of how long he’d been sitting on that hard floor. It could have been minutes, hours, or even days. At some point, he’d used a miracle to close the curtains and turn off the lights and it was only when a loud knock sounded throughout the shop that he startled and darted upright.

He sent a glare towards the noise as he could already sense who it was that had disturbed his melancholy.

“Angel?”

There it was. That voice that he’d loved throughout the centuries. The voice that he had been dreading hearing again. Clear as day as he called through the wood to enquire towards Aziraphale’s whereabouts. He supposed he could stay quiet. Could pretend he wasn’t in the shop and wait until the demon left.

It was a nice thought. But ultimately doomed to failure. He needed to hear from the source what Crowley’s game was and now was as good a time as ever.

He waved a hand towards the door, turning his back to it as it opened as per his command. He wanted to delay actually looking at Crowley for as long as possible. Was desperate to put off the acknowledgement that his wonderful Crowley had said such horrible things.

“There you are! Listen, I know it’s a bit short notice, but I’ve heard tell that a table might have just opened up at Rules and I was thinking…”

Aziraphale couldn’t listen anymore, “Is it true?” He interrupted, his tone sharp.

He could hear Crowley spluttering somewhat behind him, “True? Is what true?”

He turned to face the other, and from the look on Crowley’s face, he knew that his own face must have looked a picture. Eyes red-rimmed and puffy, face blotchy and still scrunched up. Hardly a look that was suited for an angel of the Almighty.

“Angel, what’s going on?”

Crowley had aimed to lay a comforting hand on his arm, but Aziraphale flinched harshly away from him, a hollow triumph in the way that Crowley frowned at his reaction.

“I thought it would be a nice surprise, you know,” He began, not allowing the demon to question him, “you’re always coming to meet me here, after all, it’s very rare that I come to your residency. Thought I might try it, of the off chance you were there.”

He saw Crowley freeze, his mouth agape as he put the pieces together. His demon wasn’t stupid.

“Angel, whatever you heard…”

“Don’t call me angel!” Aziraphale cried, “My name is Aziraphale and you shall refer to me as such”

He should have felt some sort of satisfaction at the flinch that his outburst cause in Crowley. All he could feel, however, was a sense of regret at what he had said. He should feel empowered as he commands a demon to refer to him by the name bestowed upon by the Almighty. Instead, he felt almost sick at the thought of never hearing Crowley use ‘angel’ as a term of endearment anymore.

Crowley his raised his hands, as though trying to surrender or diffuse the situation, “Okay, Aziraphale, I swear to you, you haven’t got the whole story…”

“What story? Do you mean the story where you spent almost 1800 years trying to make an angel fall? The story where you managed to get me to care for you,  _to love you_ , and all the while you were scheming behind my back, is that the story you want to tell me?”

Aziraphale could feel his corporeal form trembling, as his rage and anguish built within his, his angelic power threatened to burst from him. The air around them felt tangible with celestial energy and Aziraphale knew that, had he had his eyes open, the room would be full of a light that would be blinding to most humans.

As he didn’t have his eyes open, however, he was expecting to feel a warm hand touch his arm, or a gentle voice saying his name. The sensation cause his eyes to flow open, breaking the delicate control he had on himself as he allowed a humanoid version of his true form to manifest. Wings burst from him to fill the small space of the bookshop, books and manuscripts and papers were flung from their resting places. Where once his form had human hair, now a Holy Fire had replaced it and ran down arms frozen in place.

Crowley, by this point, had jolted back. He watched as all natural light faded from the space he was in, to be replaced by only the light that came from Aziraphale.

This was the first time he had seen this hint of the angel’s true form. And it was truly a sight to behold, though Crowley might have preferred it if said angel were not directed that built up rage and anguish directly at him and he could almost feel it pierce through his body. He saw hundreds of eyes surrounding him; some were glaring, some were judging, some were pleading, and some were weeping. There was a white light emanating from where the angel’s corporeal eyes should have been and the vision was both eerie and beautiful. He felt trapped within a cage of angelic wings.

“Aziraphale, please, you must hear me”

Silence.

At least that gave him room to say his piece. He sank to his knees in front of the being before him, placed his hands flat on the ground as he went against his natural demonic instinct to fight against such a Heavenly force and become vulnerable before them instead.

“I beg of you to understand, Aziraphale, that perhaps when this first started that my intentions towards you were not as I had presented to you.” A shift in the energy.  _Anger._ Crowley pressed on. “I was foolish in that I had first seen you as simply another being to tempt. It was my job and I was blind to that. But that changed. After knowing you and being with you, you changed me, Aziraphale.” A second shift. The anger was still present, but there was an undercurrent of interest and Crowley felt a tremor in the cage of wings. He changed a glance up towards Aziraphale’s still present corporeal form. “I know it may be hard to do, given the circumstances, but I plead with you to trust me when I tell you that I grew to care for you as well.” He sucked in a breath.  _Damn the consequences._ “Aziraphale, I do not know whether a demon can love or not, but if it is possible, then what I feel for you must be love, for I don’t think any feeling this strong or this positive could be anything else.”

A final shift. Though the angelic form was still present, eyes still piercing through Crowley’s form from every angle imaginable, the celestial light have dissipated from behind Aziraphale’s corporeal eyes. They looked at him with a hesitant hope, though hurt clouded over them as well.

Crowley sat back on his heels, not ready to ruin this by standing up fully, but just enough so that he could see the other properly, “Aziraphale?” He tried.

When the reply came, it didn’t come from Aziraphale’s mouth, instead it reverberated throughout the room, as though it had formed within Crowley’s own mind and manifested with Aziraphale’s voice.

“I don’t know if I can trust you, Crowley” The voice admitted, “I cannot sense that you are lying to me, now that I am taking the time to look, but to know what your intentions had been”

Crowley swallowed, it was best not to speak right now, much as he wanted to argue his point, he needed to allow Aziraphale to come to a conclusion by himself. He could only hope that that conclusion did not result in his destruction.

“You cannot understand the hurt I feel. The hurt I felt upon the knowledge of your deception. Your feelings might have changed since, Crowley, but I cannot forget that our relationship was built on lies and… and… temptation.”

Crowley stayed still. He couldn’t gauge what Aziraphale was thinking, he could only hope that his plea was not ignored.

“I ask you to leave now, Crowley”

Crowley blinked.  _Leave?_ He didn’t want to leave it like this, there was still more to say, more he had to get Aziraphale to understand.

He got to his feet, slowly, carefully, “Aziraphale…” He began,

“Don’t” Aziraphale interrupted him, “Don’t make me force you out, Crowley. I don’t want to have to do that.”

It was more than just a request. It was a heartfelt appeal for Crowley to do as asked. Aziraphale had turned away from him, the surrounding eyes had vanished and all Crowley could now see were the angels two beautiful white wings, trembling slightly with each steadying breath that Aziraphale took. He wanted to reach out, to comfort the being that he’d held in his arms and loved. Instead, he took a fill of the sight before him, a reminder that would stay with him for eternity.

“This won’t change my feelings for you, Aziraphale,” He said, just before he turned the door handle that would see him out, “If you should ever find it within yourself to forgive me, I want you to that I will love you then just as much as I do now”

There was no answer. Crowley hadn’t expected one, not really. So, with an unfamiliar sense of heaviness within him, he left the bookshop, unsure when, or even if, he’d ever be allowed to step foot in it again.

As the wooden door slammed shut behind him, a lone angel crumpled to the ground, knees drawn up to his chest and wings shielding him from the outside world as sobs wracked through his form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... hope you enjoyed?
> 
> This chapter fought me hard, but the next update shouldn't take so long to be finished!

**Author's Note:**

> UNBETA'D.  
> This might well become a multi-chaptered story, I have a few ideas for it cropping up.  
> Let me know if it's something you would like to see continued
> 
> Feel free to yell at me about Good Omens, or Aziraphale, or Crowley, or both of them (together and separately) on [my tumblr](https://casenumber825.tumblr.com/)


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